


calling in all the ships

by gamseys



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish has a giant crush, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, F/M, Firefighter Ronan Lynch, Fluff, M/M, Medical Procedures, Pining, Slow Burn, Surgeon Adam Parrish, There's a lot of surgery/medicine but is mostly skippable and highlighted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18778792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamseys/pseuds/gamseys
Summary: "“Another doctor, Dick?” Ronan jerked his head towards him.“Yes, you’re in a hospital. Isn’t that strange?” Gansey sniped back. “Dr. Parrish, this is Ronan Lynch, the bane of my existence. Ronan, this is Dr. Parrish. You’ll be under his care while I’m in surgeries, he’ll have some other responsibilities, but he’s going to try and figure out what’s wrong with you.”“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Ronan grumbled.“Is that why you’re wearing that gown then?” Adam quipped."Adam is a surgical intern at Cabeswater General Hospital, just trying to get enough sleep and maybe get some time in the OR. When Gansey suggests he should work on connecting with patients, he introduces him to firefighter, Ronan Lynch, and his feels his world start to shift, maybe just a little bit.





	1. enter this town, like new born creatures

**Author's Note:**

> okay there's a lot to begin with but it's important so please read 
> 
> 1\. if you're wondering why your user subscription went off and who tf I am, I used to be sorrows_start but changed it to match my tumblr (also sweater-sasquatch).  
> 2\. NFMG epilogue is in the works but I had some intense writers block and then - boom this appeared. It's already nearly finished so updates every friday  
> 3\. This is a fic about hospitals and surgery and medicine, though I would like to stress that Ronan isn't a patient for long. There are scenes that could be distressing, I've marked anything that's heavily medical like a procedure or a code with a line instead of *** as usual and tried to write them so they can be skipped - I will also write in the beginning of every chapter what warnings and conditions will be addressed in the chapter.  
> 4\. I am by no means a medical professional, I just really really like Grey's Anatomy, which is where I've taken most of the surgical scenes from, Ronan's case is almost identical to one in the first episode of season 1, so as far as accuracy goes, I've tried my best. I'm very concerned with sensitivity, as I've borrowed most of the cases from a day time tv show I think I'm okay with as far as being appropriate goes, but please, please get in touch if you think any of it is cause for concern. 
> 
> I think that's everything so, in this chapter - there is a patient suffering from undiagnosed seizures, a patient codes and briefly a woman gets some stitches. That being said - I hope you enjoy! - kat

 

Adam never spent much time in the cafeteria of Cabeswater General Hospital. He had his routines, depending on if he was on call that night or not, and they usually involved getting in and out of the lunch hall as quickly as possible. Most of the time he would grab something to eat and then find Blue and Henry, fellow interns and his roommates. In an empty hallway towards the back of the hospital, they would eat on out of action gurneys, undisturbed until one of them was inevitably paged.

 

Sometimes, if he was lucky, an interesting surgery would coincide with his break and he would be able to eat in the gallery, observing senior residents and attendings do the work he was longing for. God knows it would be the closest he got to an OR for a while. Six months as an intern and he had logged maybe ten hours of OR time. Every hour more he got, the more he ached to be stood at the operating table himself, eventually with scalpel in hand.

 

So, no – he rarely spent time in the cafeteria. The room was lit differently to the rest of the building, and Adam would wager it was somehow due to the fact it was the only part of the hospital that was subject only to daylight hours. It opened at 8AM and closed at 6PM. How Adam envied it.

 

But here he was now, staring across at Doctor Richard Gansey III, while he finished giving Adam his mid-term performance report. Adam’s coffee had gone cold and his back was starting to protest the hard plastic chair it was pressed against.

 

Gansey didn’t have an office, he was only in his third year of residency, but the papers and folders spread across the cafeteria table gave Adam an indication of what it would be like when he did. _When_ , because it was common knowledge Gansey was a shoe in for chief resident next year. Really, Adam knew he was lucky to have been assigned such a competent resident to guide his year as an intern, and he heard the horror stories of other senior residents that acted like tyrants – but God, did Gansey ramble.

 

“You’re a pleasure to have in rounds, quite frankly.” Gansey was glancing down at his notes, peering through his wire frames at a handwritten list that Adam wouldn’t even begin to try and read. Doctor’s handwriting was a stereotype that Gansey was entirely guilty of. “You engage, you always know your patients, answer all of my tough questions – I’ve yet to catch you out, but it’ll happen, Parrish.”

 

The smile Gansey graced him with was good natured and Adam had the curtesy to let his lips twitch in return. Underneath the table, Adam’s hands turned over his pen again. So far, Gansey had only sung his praises. Adam was waiting for the ‘but’, preparing himself so he wouldn’t take it too personally.

 

“If I’m honest with you, you seem to be thriving here. Everyone knows surgical interns do dog’s work, I remember how brutal it was. We have you running around like headless chickens, but you seem to take it all in your stride. I’m rather impressed.”

 

Adam didn’t mention that he was used to crazy work hours, to falling into bed tired down to his bones, to feeling as though his head had barely hit the pillow before he had to do it all again. He had worked three jobs in high school, two during college and one in med school. A bitter part of him wondered if Gansey would be able to wrap his head around that – everyone knew the Ganseys were a family of successful doctors, everything about him said: money.

 

 “So, what do I need to work on?” Adam asked. While he appreciated Gansey’s vote of confident, praise of his superiors always made him slightly uncomfortable. His opinion on what he could do to improve would be more useful.

 

Gansey pursed his lips. “There is one area of yours I’ve been thinking about.”

 

 _Here’s the ‘but’,_ Adam thought.

 

“It’s nothing to worry about, of course,” Gansey said very quickly. “You’re a good intern – I just believe this could make you a great one. I think we should work on your bedside manner.’

 

Adam blinked. That wasn’t what he had been expecting.

 

“My bedside manner? I didn’t think I was,” he couldn’t even think of the right word, “inappropriate?”

 

“God no, not inappropriate, not in the slightest.” Gansey’s eyes widened as he tried to reassure him. “In fact, you’re very appropriate. You’re very good at expressing what’s going on, what a procedure will consist of, what a diagnoses means. It’s very clear, very concise. Almost clinical.”

 

He was lost. What was the issue? Of course he was clinical – he was a doctor. His confusion must have shown on his face because Gansey sighed.

 

“I do apologise, I’m not wording this correctly. What I’m saying is that you tend to keep your patients at arm’s length. You can rattle off their prescriptions, their bloodwork, you name it. But I wonder, think of your patients now and what can you tell me about them that isn’t written on their chart? About their hobbies or families, perhaps? Or maybe how they’re feeling about their upcoming surgeries?”  

 

Adam felt something like guilt bubble beneath his skin at Gansey’s words. He was clasping at the conversations he’d had that morning with the cases he was on, and couldn’t recall anything like his resident was suggesting. Gansey took off his glasses and began cleaning them with the sleeve of his white coat.

 

“When under our care, patients are extremely vulnerable. They’re sick and they put their faith in us to heal them, they need to be able to trust us. Not that you appear untrustworthy, but I feel that being able to make a connection with your patients is valuable. Sometimes it can seem as though, well honestly, that you’re not invested in your patients as people. Not as a chart or case or surgery.”

 

It felt like a blow to hear that. It wasn’t that he didn’t see them as people – but that he didn’t always want to. Sometimes his days consisted of giving bad news, of bad test results, of bad reactions. He remembered the first time he had to declare a time of death. Gansey was right when he said he kept them at arm’s length.

 

“There’s no need to look so distraught, Parish. Some surgeons go their whole career that way and it doesn’t affect their work. Some of the best do.” Gansey leaned in as though telling him a secret. “But you’re going to be better than them. I can already tell. And if this is something I can impart with you, I’ll know I’ve done my part in that.”

 

Thankfully, Gansey didn’t give Adam time to respond before clapping his hands together and moving on. Adam had no idea what he could have said to that.

 

“Now,” Gansey stood and began gathering all his stray papers. “There’s someone I would like you to meet, come along.” 

 

***

 

He followed Gansey through the hospital, which took twice as long than if he went on his own. People stopped the man everywhere he went and though he greeted each and every one with a broad smile and a smart comment, Adam couldn’t help but notice he looked rather weary when they continued.

 

They exited an elevator that lead out to patient floors, and as they passed the nurses station Adam caught sight of Henry Cheng leaning against it. It was unfair that scrubs suited him. He neglected his white coat, instead wearing a long sleeved white t-shirt under his blue scrubs.

 

“Gansey-Man!” He called when he saw them approach. Gansey was their superior but that didn’t seem to faze Henry, nor Gansey for that matter.

 

“Cheng,” he greeted. “Did you chase those lab results I was after?”

 

Henry grabbed two folders from the counter and presented them with a flourish. After taking them, Gansey looked through each and sighed. He gave one back to Henry. “Well, you get the honour of telling Mrs. Ramirez that she’s clear for infection. Parrish and I shall deliver this one.”

 

He tapped his shoulder lightly with the papers, his others still bundled under an arm, and then gestured for Adam to follow him.

 

“This patient is…” For once, it seemed like Gansey was lost for words. “Well, he’s a nightmare, quite frankly. And a life-long friend. But a still a nightmare. It’s the perfect practice for your people skills. If you can deal with Ronan, connecting with other patients will be a breeze. Feel free to be,” he waved the folder, “unconventional.”

 

This wasn’t filling Adam with confidence. It felt like being thrown in at the deep end.

 

“He doesn’t want to be here and I’m in back to back surgeries after this. Truth be told, I just need someone I can trust to keep an eye on him.”

 

It surprised Adam just how much he didn’t want to let Gansey down. So he followed him inside as Gansey opened the door to the patient’s room.

 

The man in the bed was not what Adam had been expecting. What was different, he couldn’t quite place. But he was nonetheless taken aback by Ronan – he remembered Gansey calling him that.

 

Ronan had strong arms folded across his chest, broad shoulders even in a hospital gown, a buzzed head and a piercing blue glare. Gansey had been right – everything about his posture screamed that he really did not want to be here.

 

“Another doctor, Dick?” He jerked his head towards Adam. Adam’s mouth twitched at his nickname for Gansey.

 

“Yes, you’re in a hospital. Isn’t that strange?” Gansey sniped back. “Dr. Parrish, this is Ronan Lynch, the bane of my existence. Ronan, this is Dr. Parrish. You’ll be under his care while I’m in surgeries, he’ll have some other responsibilities, but he’s going to try and figure out what’s wrong with you.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Ronan grumbled.

 

“Is that why you’re wearing that gown then?” Adam quipped.

 

For a moment, it looked as if Ronan wanted to laugh, a ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth but he clamped it down. Adam couldn’t help but notice the way Ronan’s eyes didn’t leave him as Gansey started talking again.

 

“Ronan had a seizure last night,” Gansey explained, his voice not quite solemn but not as cheerful as he usually was. Then he turned to Ronan. “Your CT results came back clear.”

 

“Great. I can get out of this dress and back to work then.”

 

“Not quite. Dr. Parrish?”

 

Adam took a moment to grab his chart, flipping through quickly. “Well, just because your CT came back clean doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods. It’s important to find the cause of your seizure, seeing as,” he glanced back at the chart to double check, “you have no history of them before.”

 

“And how would you suggest proceeding?”

 

“I would run a spinal tap, and EEG too.”

 

“Good answer – we’ve run both of those and you’ll get those results soon. Monitor Ronan’s vitals and keep an eye on him, page me when you get those results, and remember our chat from this morning.” He looked at Ronan imploringly. “Please try to behave, just for the day. Rest up. Take it easy. And now if you’ll excuse me both, there’s a glioblastoma with my name on it in OR 4.”

 

When Gansey left, a quiet settled over the room. Ronan watched him with guarded eyes.

 

“Like he said, I’m Dr. Parrish.” As Adam introduced himself, he stepped closer to Ronan’s bedside, looking at his monitor. “How’re you this morning?”

 

Ronan grunted. “I’d be better if I didn’t have baby doctors waking me up at the ass crack of dawn to poke and prod me.”

 

He felt his mouth twitch again. “Us baby doctors have to learn somehow. Your vitals are looking good.”

 

Adam turned when Ronan didn’t respond, but the man ignored the him and instead squinted at his identification badge.

 

“Adam,” he read.

 

“Dr. Parrish,” Adam corrected.

 

“Parrish?”

 

“ _Dr_. Parrish,” he said again. “I didn’t go through the hell of med school for nothing, I earned those letters.”

 

His patient sighed, as if Adam was the one being difficult, and then folded his hands in his lap. It looked like a strained attempt to be polite. A poor impression of Gansey. “Fine, Doc. When can I go home?”

 

“When we figure out what caused your seizure. That’s pretty serious business, Mr. Lynch.”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes and abandoned his barely summoned politeness. “So I’ve been told. Can’t you just, I don’t know, give me some drugs and have done with it?”

 

“If it worked that way my job would be a lot easier.” Adam strolled away to the end of the bed, taking the opportunity to flick back through Ronan’s chart again. “Eager to get back?”

 

“Eager to get out of this damn gown,” Ronan huffed, and then after a moment, “I should be at work.”

 

“Well, I’ll do my best to get you back there, stat. Think you can answer a couple of questions for me?”

 

That appeared to be a harder request than Adam had anticipated. Ronan gave one word answers, completely ignored the ones he found stupid, answering instead with a pointed glare. Adam was beginning to see why Gansey had described him as a nightmare.

 

“You know we’re here to help you, right? Can’t exactly do that if you don’t cooperate.”

 

“Oh please, we both know every second longer I spend in this bed is another penny going into the hospital’s pocket.”

 

Adam frowned. He couldn’t be serious? “That’s really not how it works. Believe me, I want you gone as much as you do.”

 

He had meant that the longer a patient stays in hospital, the higher risk for complications is. But he had perhaps said it with too much conviction, judging by the arching eyebrow Ronan now aimed at him. He said as much, but there was no response from his patient.

 

“Fine,” Adam was a second away from throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll be back later. Buzz a nurse if you need something.”

 

In his opinion, he did very well not slamming the door on his way out. Professional, he told himself. Impeccable bedside manner.

 

***

 

“He was just so uncooperative. He had a seizure, - a _seizure_. And a pretty severe one. And with no priors, no found cause and all he wants is to go back to work? He couldn’t care less, he isn’t answering my questions. Gansey’s gonna get out of surgery and then-”

 

“And then what? You won’t be his favourite anymore?” Blue snorted. “That seems unlikely.”

 

“I’m not his favourite,” Adam argued. Blue’s only reply was a sharp laugh, before turning into the corridor they had claimed as theirs.

 

It housed empty gurneys and stretchers, for when their trauma centre was put into use and they needed extra. They sat on them to eat their lunch, or dinner, or midnight break snack, but tradition said it was bad luck to sleep on them. Sleep on a stretcher and end up on one. His roommate launched herself onto one, her small stature making it a more difficult task than it should have been.

 

“It’s interesting though, isn’t it? CT came back clear?” Blue tore the lid off a yogurt, licking the excess off of it.

 

“And his spinal tap and his EEG.” Adam flopped back on the gurney to stare at the ceiling, knees bent. “Gansey’s expecting me to have this cracked by when he gets out.”

 

“No,” Blue paused, eating a spoonful and then pointing it at him. “He isn’t. Gansey’s a resident, working very closely with the head of neuro. He hasn’t worked it out, and I bet he’s asked Malory about it too. It’s a stumper. He’s not expecting you to have figured it out. He’s just testing you, putting the pressure on a bit.”

 

“Yeah, well I’m feeling it.”

 

“Feeling what, buddy?”

 

Henry appeared at that moment, looking far too cheery for someone with the amount of sleep they were getting. He was already eating from a bag of chips.

 

“Stress.”

 

“Ah, nothing out of the normal then. If it cheers you up, I was put in the pit this morning, and had three different children puke on me. This is my fourth pair of scrubs today.”

 

Adam bit his lip. That did make him feel slightly better.

 

“Oh, to be an intern,” Blue said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then she adopted a pretty uncanny impression of Doctor Whelk. “ _You’re interns, grunts, nobodies - the bottom of the surgical food chain.”_

After they were finished laughing, Adam posed a question. “Have you guys thought about specialties? I know it’s early to think about it-”

 

“Ortho,” Blue said, immediately.

 

“Plastics,” Henry answered almost at the same time. “Really? Ortho? That’s just, bone breaking isn’t it?”

 

“It’s bone healing,” Blue shot, snatching the rest of Henry’s chips away from him now she had finished her yogurt. “And it’s hardcore. Like me. Better than heiress nose jobs and liposuction.”

 

“Excuse you, plastics is a lot more than that! Reconstruction is a delicate nature, plastics is an art and the way we see ourselves is vital to our health-”

 

Before they could argue any more, a pager went off. All eyes darted to theirs.

 

“Not me.”

 

“Or me.”

 

“Me,” Adam said, staring at the pager in disbelief. “911 for Ronan.”

 

It took a moment for Adam to register what that meant, and then – he was running.

 

***

 

Adam had seen people running in the hospital before. When it happened, you moved out their way, crowds parted and you let that doctor get wherever they needed to go. He hadn’t been the one running before.

 

Thankfully, he had finally gotten to grips with the hospital lay out, he let his legs lead the way, took the stairs two at a time and skidded down the hallway outside Ronan’s room. There were no nurses inside. 911 meant a team should be there already. Who had paged him?

 

He burst through the door. Ronan was throwing a tennis ball up in the air, catching it with the opposite hand, sat upright in his bed.

 

“What the-” Adam panted, taking a moment to catch his breath. “You’re – you’re okay?”

 

“I can’t get the TV to work.”

 

“You – what?” Adam was still confused. He glanced towards the nurses station, no one looked panic.

 

Ronan held up a pager. “Swiped it from a nurse. Can you get the TV to work? I’m bored out of my mind.”

 

As it began to make sense to his oxygen deprived brain, Adam felt himself grow furious.

 

“You paged me 911?”

 

“It was an emergency.”

 

“911 means you’re dying.”

 

“No, pretty sure that’s a code blue.”

 

Adam stormed towards him, hair falling in his face, the sweat that had formed on his forehead stringing it together slightly.

 

“911 means emergency. 911 means code blue, which is what we shout when you’re not breathing, or your heart isn’t beating or when you’re bleeding out onto the floor. Life or death. It means that I have to drop whatever it is I’m doing, eating, sleeping, treating another patient, and haul ass, hoping that I manage to get here on time. But I don’t expect you to understand any of that.”

 

For a moment, neither spoke. Ronan was barely breathing, but Adam was still trying to catch his breath, though he couldn’t tell if that was his anger or his run that was causing it. He didn’t realise how close he had gotten to Ronan. Now he was looking down at him, watching Ronan struggling to check his face.

 

“Parrish, I didn’t-”

 

“ _Dr._ Parrish!” Adam exclaimed, hoping he sounded as exasperated as he felt. “I’m your doctor. Don’t waste my time.” He had already made it half way back out the door before he turned around. “And give me that damn pager.”

 

***

 

The gallery that overlooked OR 4 was empty apart from Adam. He sat in the centre chair, watching as Gansey and Doctor Malory worked in tandem, moving with ease around each other, making causal conversation. It was a long procedure, already having been in there for five hours.  How in just five hours Ronan had nearly succeeded in giving Adam an aneurysm, he didn’t know.

 

He heard the door to the gallery open, and didn’t need to turn to know it was Blue sliding into the seat besides him. He could see her dark, unruly hair in his peripheral, smell the shampoo she had been stealing from Cheng.

 

“Henry told me what happened with Lynch,” she said. “What an asshole.”

 

Adam grunted. “Thought I was gonna have to explain to Gansey I let his best friend die on my watch. He’s got another surgery after this, hasn’t he?”

 

Blue nodded. “You got much to do?”

 

“I finished the post-ops he gave me. Didn’t assign me to anyone else but Lynch today. He wants me to work on my patient care. Get to know them.”

 

“So why are you here?”

 

“Because if I get to know Lynch any more, I might have to smother him with his pillow and I really would like to keep my license.”

 

“Adam, c’mon, get up." Blue nudged him with her elbow. "You know I don’t care, but you have this weird thing about disappointing Gansey and you will if you don’t at least try. Just, I don’t know, think out of the box with this.”

 

That jogged his memory. What was it Gansey had said? Don’t be afraid to be unconventional?

 

“That’s – that’s actually kind of helpful. You’re right.” He stood and then thought again. “Do you and Cheng still have your game nights in the lounge?”

 

***

 

When he got to Ronan’s room, Adam didn’t say anything until he dropped the box on the table over the bed.

 

Ronan’s cold eyes flicked up from the box to his doctor and then down to the box again. “Is this a joke?”

 

“This is a game,” he said, desperately trying to push down the anger that was beginning to rise whenever he thought of Ronan paging him. “What, you’ve never played operation before?”

 

Adam pulled up a chair to his bedside and began unpacking the box.

 

“Aren’t you mad?”

 

There was a strangeness to Ronan’s voice that made Adam look up. He sounded hesitant, and though Adam couldn’t work out if he was imagining it, softer.

 

“I’m mad,” he said, earnestly. “But that doesn’t matter, I’m not here about that.”

 

“I-” Ronan began, and then tried again, his voice gruff. “I didn’t know that you guys used that code. I wouldn’t have sent that if I did.”

 

“But you would still have swiped a nurse’s pager to bother me?”

 

There was a toothy grin, shark-like, spreading across Ronan’s face. “Absolutely.”

 

“Well, hold off next time. Or just ask a nurse. Sometimes saying please and thank you helps.” Slowly, Adam could feel his anger easing. He decided to try some honesty. “I don’t usually talk to my patients very much, Gansey thinks that I would benefit from getting to know them better.”

 

“Hence the board game.”

 

“Hence the board game. Gansey is – he’s got this way about him. Makes me feel like letting him down is probably the worst thing I could do.”

 

Ronan surprised him, by barking a laugh. “Sorry – I just, know the feeling.” Adam found himself thinking there was no way Ronan should apologise for laughing, it suited him far more than his scowl. “Okay, c’mon then, doc. Get to know me.”

 

And he did. Together they played, while Adam asked questions and Ronan made an attempt to give more detailed answers, still without dropping his guard and disclosing too much. He had two brothers, he lived with his friend Noah, he was terrible at operation.

 

“Fuck!” He dropped the tweezers as the board buzzed again. Adam claimed them, deftly plucking each from its hole and then resetting it for Ronan. “It should be reassuring you’re so good at this, but it’s just making me mad.”

 

He laughed at that, a smile lingering afterwards as he caught Ronan’s eye. He could feel a heat rising to his cheeks, so he glanced away. “So, what’s this work that you’re desperate to get back to?”

 

“I’m a fireman.”

 

Adam blinked. “Oh.” He could see it really, in his muscular shoulders, his firm arms, his no-nonsense haircut. “So when I said – that. About you not understanding, trying to save a life – I. Oh. Does that make me the asshole?”

 

“No, I was definitely being an asshole. It’s kinda my shtick,” Ronan snickered.

 

“It’s okay, I think we can both be assholes.” The board buzzed again as Ronan’s hand jolted. “What’s being a fireman like?”

 

“Not as exciting as in the movies. Just as tiring.”

 

“Sounds like being a doctor, to be honest.” They shared a grin at that. Adam tried to remember how livid he had been an hour ago. “Rewarding, though.”

 

“Oh yeah. Just last week I fell out of a tree, trying to get this kid’s kite down. Bruised elbow, but all in a day’s work,” he joked.

 

“You should get that elbow checked out while you’re here.”

 

“Funnily enough, think it’s alright, Parrish – sorry, sorry. Dr. Parrish.”

 

It struck Adam that he hadn’t even thought to correct him. He was more preoccupied with the way he said his name.

 

***

 

“And,” Adam pulled the needle and tweezers, tying off the last stitch, “finished.”

 

The old lady he was treating had fallen down her stairs, and thankfully had only come away with a cut on her arm from a vase she knocked over. All in all, she was very lucky.

 

“Thank you, Dr. Parrish. What a fine young man, hm? I do have a niece around your age, you know. She’s training to be a lawyer.”

 

“That’s very nice, ma’am,” Adam nodded, filling out a prescription for some low level painkillers. It wasn’t uncommon for his patients to say things like this. Attempting to set him up with someone was objectively better than outright being hit on.

 

He handed her prescription and guided her towards the reception to sign out. The ER was relatively quiet tonight, but it was nine hours into his shift, nearing 10 o’clock, and Ronan had been struggling to keep his eyes open. He just needed to find something to keep his hands busy until Gansey was out of his surgery, any moment now.

 

For a moment he debated finding Henry, knowing Blue was swamped tonight, but his pager distracted him.

 

**911 RM 621**

 

911 for Ronan again. This had to be a mistake. He felt a wave of annoyance flush through him, he thought he and Ronan had made some progress, yet here he was paging him again. Still – what if? He set off at a pace, not quite as fast as the first time.

 

* * *

 

When he arrived, there was chaos. People flooding in and out of Ronan’s room.

 

“Check his airways!” Someone inside the room called. Adam felt his stomach roll, heart sinking somewhere to join it.

 

He surged into the room, trying to take in everything at once – a nurse moved past him, muttering, “what took you so long?”

 

It was incredible how everything in the room was so loud, yet he couldn’t really make sense of any of it. Ronan’s monitor ringing out. Orders being shouted. People asking him how to proceed. People waiting on him. Ronan waiting on him. A nurse’s voice broke through.

 

“He’s had multiple grand mal seizures. He’s already had diazepam,” he said. “Dr. Parrish, _c’mon_.”

 

Parrish. Come on. Focus, focus, fo-

 

“How much?” He asked, finding his voice.

 

“4 millograms.”

 

“Have you paged Dr. Gansey? And Dr. Malory?”

 

“Yes, before you got here.” Adam tried to ignore the accusatory tone.

 

“Well, page them again,” he barked. He couldn’t do this, had never done this on his own before, never been the one calling the shots when it really, truly mattered. “Phenobarbital, he needs pheno.”

 

Knowing the nurses had more experience than him, he had barely spared glanced at Ronan but now he looked up. He was fitting, shaking, eyes open but not present – he had been fine an hour ago, sat in this bed playing a stupid board game with Adam. Guilt rose like bile in his throat, but there was no time.

 

“No change!” Someone called out.

 

Seeing Ronan seize was difficult. Watching his body still was worse. Adam could feel his stomach drop even lower.

 

“Code blue! Heart’s stopped!”

 

His monitor was wailing. Adam pressed forwards while someone wheeled a cart in, immediately starting chest compressions. He pressed down on Ronan’s chest, again and again, his skin clammy and cool to the touch. “Don’t even think about it, Lynch.”

 

A nurse took over while he went to the crash cart, picking up the paddles as they prepped Ronan. When someone shouted clear, he ordered a charge to 200. Nothing. 300. Nothing still. 360 – and he still wasn’t responding.

 

“I swear to God, Ronan,” he found himself muttering. “Charge again.”

 

“You’re supposed to-”

 

“Charge again!” He ordered. They did. Another jolt went through Ronan’s body. His monitor’s noise became intermittent.

 

“I see sinus rhythm. Blood pressure’s coming up. Rates returning.”

 

* * *

 

Slowly, he was becoming stable. Adam sucked in a breath, feeling like he had been holding his from the minute he walked in to the room. Ronan was motionless but stable and Adam could have cried from relief.

 

That is – until Gansey swept into the room.

 

“What happened?” Adam had never heard that tone on him before. It was stone cold, short and tight.

 

“He had a seizure, his heart stopped,” Adam began.

 

“A seizure? You were supposed to be watching him.” He was, for the first time he realised, seeing Gansey furious. 

 

“I checked on him – we were-”

 

“Just go, Adam. I’ve got him, just – go.”

 

Gansey turned away from him, towards Ronan, already conversing with the nurses that had called him in. Adam sank towards the back of the room, suddenly aware he couldn’t be there any longer. He did as Gansey said – he went.


	2. these mistakes you've made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ronan's code, Adam takes it upon himself to diagnose the surly fireman before he can deteriorate any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! thank you so much for the response to the first chapter! everyone who took time to leave a comment really made my day. more greys references in this because i really cannot help myself. also this is without a beta so apologies for any mistakes i've missed
> 
> This chapter is pretty much warning free, Ronan continues to be treated, there is a surgery but it isn't described in detail. hope you all enjoy! - kat

 

Adam left Ronan’s room as a blur behind him, storming past people in the corridor as he went. Somewhere behind him, he heard Blue calling his name but he didn’t pause, didn’t know when she had caught up with him. He veered off into their locker room and again into a bathroom, stumbled into a stall and promptly vomited.

 

When he had finished emptying the little content that had been in his stomach, he straightened and dragged a hand across his mouth. He avoided meeting his own eyes in the mirror above the sink as he thoroughly washed his hands, only catching a glimpse of the bags beneath them, the way his hair was at an odd angle.

 

“You okay?” He hadn’t noticed Blue leaning against the door to the bathroom.

 

“This is the men’s room, y’know,” he said, towelling off his hands. For good measure, he patted at the sweat that had collected on his forehead too.

 

“What happened?” She ignored him, crossing her arms, her scrubs bunching under them.

 

“Ronan coded, I was late.” It was matter of fact. “Gansey’s pissed. Ronan’s stable. It’s done.”

 

It didn’t feel anywhere near done. Adam knew he wasn’t going to be able to shake the queasy feeling that had settled in his stomach any time soon. Didn’t want to risk facing Gansey and his quiet, angry eyes by going to check on Ronan right now.

 

“C’mon,” he said to Blue, brushing passed her and into the locker room. “We’ve got four more hours to get through.”

 

***

 

The house he rented a room in belonged to Henry – technically, it belonged to Henry’s aunt. The elderly woman had informed her nephew that she wanted to spend the last years of her life in Korea, and considering that she would be leaving the house to him anyway, he might as well make use of it now. As a result of it being an old Korean woman’s home, and Henry giving Blue free decorating range when she moved in, they lived among a mishmash of dark, antique mahogany end tables and multicoloured knitted throw blankets. It was the best home Adam had ever had.

 

The three interns ended up finishing their shift around the same time, piling into the car that Blue and Adam shared and making the drive back in less than twenty minutes. During the day, when the city was more awake and pulsing, it took twice as long, now at 2AM it was relatively peaceful. They stumbled through the front door, divided to eat and shower and fall into their own beds.

 

But Adam awoke to the sound of a monitor alarm. He sat up, chest heaving and found the house quiet. Still. The light peeking through his curtains told him that he had managed to snag a few hours of sleep, the way his heart beat against his ribcage told him he wouldn’t be getting any more.

 

He had managed to avoid Gansey for the rest of his shift, but something told him that was only because his resident didn't want to see him either. How was Ronan doing? Was he still stable? Had there been any progress on diagnosing him?

 

Before he knew it, he was kicking off his sheets, stumbling in the dark of his room to find the light switch. Avoiding laundry he hadn’t had a chance to get to yet, he grabbed some of the text books that lined his shelves, and then after a moment of consideration, he grabbed some more. He didn’t bother checking the time as he trailed into the living room and dropped the books on the floor – this required coffee.

 

It had been maybe an hour of pouring over the texts, sipping coffee and letting the mug warm his hands, when Henry emerged from his room. His dark hair was pushed up to new heights from sleeping on it wet, he wore only his boxers and a band tee - The Cure.

 

“Hey,” his voice was croaky from sleep. His eyebrow shot up when he took in Adam’s presence. “Uh, whatcha got there, buddy?”

 

“Coffee,” Adam let his eyes wander back to the paragraph he had been on. “There’s some in the kitchen if you want any.”

 

“Yeah, no, I meant more the library you’ve opened up in our living room. It’s not even eight yet, what're you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to diagnose Ronan Lynch.”

 

“Ah, Gansey mentioned him yesterday,” Henry said, planting himself across from Adam, crossing his legs.

 

“Did he mention the part where I nearly let him die?”

 

“On purpose? I heard he was an asshole but-”

 

“Cheng,” Adam warned, swatting at him with the book he was holding. Henry’s grin faltered, seeing the expression clouding Adam’s face. “I really fucked up there.”

 

“You really didn’t,” Henry countered. “From what I’ve heard, you ran that code by yourself. No attending, no resident.”

 

“I would have been screwed without the nurses.”

 

“We’d all be constantly screwed without nurses. Thank God that’s what they’re there for. But Lynch was stable when we left. There’s time to figure this out,” Henry flashed him a smile, one that wasn’t as bold but twice as reassuring as his regular one. He stretched out on the floor, placing his arms behind his head. “What have you ruled out?”

 

Adam lifted up the pad that had been resting besides his knee. “Doesn’t have anoxia, chronic renal failure, or acidosis.”

 

“Tumour?”

 

“CT’s clean,” Adam hummed, putting his pen to his mouth.

 

At that moment Blue wandered out, yawning. “Are we talking about Lynch? What about an aneurysm?”

 

She made her way over to a plush arm chair, moving a journal Adam was resting on it to the floor before depositing herself in it. Adam shook his head.

 

“No blood on the CT, no headaches.”

 

This time Henry and Blue spoke at the same time. “Infection?”

 

“No, white count normal, no lesions, no fever, nothing on his spinal tap.” Adam groaned and lulled his head forwards to meet the pages of the book balanced on his knees. “This is impossible.”

 

“ _Relax_. We’ll get it – somebody has to. Anybody want pancakes?”

 

***

 

They didn’t get it. By the time their shift started, absolutely no progress had been made. Worse still, when it came time for rounds, Gansey still averted his eye, aiming all his questions at his other interns. Adam willed himself to pay attention, but his gaze always ended up drifting back to way the rain outside made water race down the window panes.

 

Rounds ended with Ronan, who was awake when they entered. He was looking worse for wear, face hollower than Adam could recall from the previous day, his cheek bones seemingly poignant, a matching curve to the furrow of his brows. He sat upright, but looked as though he was swaying slightly with every breath.

 

Throughout the questions, his eyes did not leave Adam. He could feel them on him, despite trying to look anywhere else. There were a few cards on his bedside table, one signed in big letters from MATTY with a smiley face. Another was signed by multiple people – probably his fellow firefighters.

 

When they had finished, Adam watched everyone else file from the room until he was left alone with Ronan, debating walking out with them. Ronan had other ideas.

 

“You doctors like talking too much.” He let his head lull against his pillow, limbs loose by his side. His voice was hoarse. “I’m not sure I understood two words said there.”

 

Adam let himself huff a small laugh at that, half for Ronan’s sake, half from relief that he was still willing to talk to him.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Ronan lifted up the arm that was hooked to his IV. “Peachy.”

 

“Uhuh,” Adam nodded, lacing his voice with sarcasm. “You sure look it.”

 

“Well, then, doc – fix me.”

 

He looked at Ronan. His large frame was almost too big for the bed, but it didn’t make him look any less unwell. Suddenly, Adam felt anger flare at Gansey. This was his fault. If it was another patient, he was sure he wouldn’t feel this pang. This was why he kept his distance, but Gansey had to insist he went the extra mile. Now looking at Ronan he saw more than the man in the bed. He saw his brothers, his roommate, his selfless job, his life.

 

“I’m trying,” Adam said, refusing to look away from Ronan’s face. He hoped he could tell how much he meant that. “I’m sorry.”

 

After the other interns had left, Ronan’s face had relaxed as he sank back, but now the frown was back in full force. “What for?”

 

“Yesterday. I was late when they paged me, you coded.”

 

“You’re sorry that I coded?”

 

“No – well, yes, I am – but I mean, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. If I'd gotten there sooner, I might have been able to stop that from happening."

 

For a long moment, Ronan looked at him. Adam could see his mind working in his blue eyes. Then he pointed at the chair next to him. “Sit down, Parrish.”

 

“But-”

 

“I said sit down.” Adam did as he was told. “I’m only gonna say this once, so you’ve gotta pay attention. What happened wasn’t your fault. Jobs like ours are fucking hard, man. It’s pressure and trying to be everywhere at once, and sometimes we mess up. Fuck knows that I have. But you got here. They told me that my heart stopped. You got it beating again.”

 

Whatever protests Adam had been queuing died on his tongue then. He looked at Ronan and remembered his hands on his chest, willing life back into him with every pump.

 

“So, stop apologising. If you really feel the need to make something up to me, find out what the hell is wrong with me so I can go home. Sound like a deal?”

 

“It’s a deal,” Adam nodded. When Ronan managed a weak grin, he couldn’t help but mirror it.

 

“I mean it, our jobs are tough shit. You have to deal with people like me all day.” Ronan nudged him with an elbow.

 

“I do. You fall out of trees.”

 

The muffled laugh that was shocked from Ronan was the first thing to ease the anxious queasiness he had been feeling since yesterday. “And I fall out of trees.”

 

A knock caught both of their attention. Gansey was leaning against the door, his glasses perched on his nose and Ronan’s chart in one hand. He was watching the pair of them. Despite Ronan’s reassurance, shame was beginning to bubble under Adam’s skin – it wasn’t just Ronan he had let down after all.

 

“I was just leaving.” He stood as he spoke, eyes cast down, ignoring Ronan’s sceptical expression.

 

“A moment, Parrish?” Gansey asked as he passed. Adam could hardly tell his resident no, that he had other places to be, far away from his disapproving gaze, so he followed when Gansey beckoned him down the corridor.

 

It was a slow day so far, and the hall was nearly empty. Gansey smiled at a passing nurse, but his expression hardened when he looked back at Adam. Gansey inhaled. Adam swallowed. Here it comes, he thought.

 

“I owe you an apology.”

 

Why was Gansey always surprising him like this? He blinked. “You do?”

 

“I let my emotions get the better of me yesterday. The truth is, you did quite well all things considered. Ronan is – to be perfectly honest, he’s like my brother. Seeing him this way, knowing that I should be able to help but I can’t – I made it personal. And I took it out on you. I’m truly sorry for that, Adam.”

 

Unsure of how to respond, Adam nodded. “I understand. I can’t imagine if it was Blue in that position.” 

 

When he had come to think of Blue as family, he wasn’t quite sure. They had met in med school, dated for a hot second, and then assimilated into each other’s lives. He had Christmas with her family. She knew all about why he didn’t talk to his.

 

Gansey frowned, for a single second, before he removed his glasses and began cleaning them on his coat and his face was smooth again. “Yes, I believe that it would be a rather similar feeling if it was a partner or a girlfriend-”

 

Adam cut him off with a laugh. “Wait, no. Blue’s not – did you think?” He cut himself off with another laugh. “Blue isn’t my girlfriend.”

 

“Oh,” Gansey balked, pausing mid motion returning his glasses to his nose. “Oh, I just assumed, I know you live together.”

 

“We also live with Cheng.”

 

“I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me. But you two are very close.”

 

“We are close, but we’re not dating. She’s my …” What was she? She was far more than his roommate. More than a friend even. “My person. If I murdered someone, she’s the person I call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor.”

 

“Ah,” Gansey nodded slowly, and then pressed Ronan’s chart towards Adam’s chest. “If that’s the case, then Ronan – he’s my person. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

 

***

 

By the time Adam got a break to eat, Blue and Henry were already in their spot. They each had a banana in their lap, its peel split open and in the process of being stitched back together.

 

“Hey,” he greeted.

 

“Can’t talk,” Henry said, the tip of his tongue poking out. “Racing.”

 

Adam shook this head, then began to eat the sandwich he had made at home. It was strange, he thought, being a doctor and advising people on their health, when his diet was currently comprised of peanut butter sandwiches, energy drinks and vending machine chips.

 

“Done! Win again,” Blue beamed, thoroughly triumphant. “Go on, say it. Tell me I’m brilliant.”

 

“You’re brilliant,” Henry said, through his teeth as he finished his last suture. “My hands are too delicate for speed, look how beautiful these are.”

 

“Excuses, Cheng, excuses.” She placed the banana beside her. “Gansey gave us the idea, we told him we were feeling sluggish and he said it might wake us up. And he was right – I’m feeling very awake right now. His mom probably had him suturing bananas at five years old. It’s what happens when you’re born into surgical royalty.”

 

“Gansey’s surgical royalty?” Henry asked. Blue shot him a look that told him he was an idiot.

 

“The Ganseys, innovative family, won countless awards. The Gansey method, developed by his mother, one of the first big female surgeons - but of course that’s not important to you.”

 

Henry looked wounded. “Hey, I know who she is – I just, hadn’t put the two together. That must be a lot of pressure. People always want his attention, but he’s just a resident. I guess you have to wonder if people want to talk to you for you or,” he waved his banana while he searched for the right term, “your rich, genius, surgical genes.”

 

“It really must be a burden,” Blue pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and catching Adam’s eye. He smirked around a bite of his sandwich. “Speaking of which, did he catch up with you?”

 

He nodded, chewing before speaking. “He actually apologised to me. Told me he made it personal, because of his relationship with Ronan.”

 

“Relationship?” Henry wiggled his eyebrows.

 

“They’re best friends. Like brothers, he said.” 

 

“Can’t imagine having a best friend that isn’t a doctor. When would you even see them?” Blue asked.

 

“Ronan’s a fireman, he probably has terrible hours too.”

 

“A fireman?” Henry’s eyes were glinting. “It’s too right that he should put those arms to public service, really.”

 

He ignored Henry’s comment, though part of him couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, a fireman. He’s eager to get back. Was telling me about how he had to climb this tree because a kid’s kite got stuck in it …”

 

Adam trailed off, his words having dropped a match in his mind. His lips parted as suddenly – a possibility.

 

“Adam?”

 

“He fell.”

 

“What?”

 

“He fell – when he climbed the tree. He fell out of it. He made a joke about bruising his elbow, but what if – what if that had distracted him from the fact he might have knocked his head? Nobody would have thought to check if he didn’t mention it, and Ronan wouldn’t have thought to mentioned it if it wasn’t, I don’t know, bleeding out.”

 

He had to find Gansey, taking off without another word and leaving his friends calling after him.

 

***

 

“What are you suggesting?” Gansey asked, interest peaked but voice still doubtful. Adam had found him seated in the cafeteria pouring over a journal and relayed his revelation to him.

 

“His CT came back clean, but what if the fall still burst an aneurysm, it could be tiny but still enough to cause the seizures. We could check with a cerebral angiogram **-”**

 

“You know the chances that such a minor fall could rupture an aneurysm? It’s nearly one in a million.”

 

He sounded disparaging, but he began to gather the papers he had spread over his lunch table, hurriedly stuffing things in folders.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Gansey sighed, a heavy thing. “If anyone’s going to be one in a million – it’s Ronan Lynch.”

 

***

 

He was.

 

Adam and Gansey watched as the angiogram took place, and then as the screen loaded to highlight the aneurysm currently bleeding into Ronan Lynch’s brain. Zoomed in, it looked just like a smudge, a thumb print.

 

“Well – I’ll be,” Gansey muttered, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip. A smile was inching across his mouth, tugging at its corners. He lowered his head, hair flopping forwards and Adam recognised his actions for what it was: relief. “We can fix this.”

 

“Do you want me to book an OR?” Adam asked, eager to start.

 

“Yes please, I’ll inform Malory and he can be the attending,” Gansey was still staring at the screen, disbelief marred by his joy at their discovery. It was infectious, Adam found, smiling himself. His resident spoke again, as he began to leave. “Oh, and Parrish? I want you to scrub in.”

 

His smile vanished, mouth opening as he tried to find the right words. “I – me?”

 

“This was all on you. Log some hours, see something amazing up close. You’ve earned it.” For a moment he thought Gansey was going to shake his hand, but he closed it into a fist as he extended it to him. Adam bumped it and found his smile again.

 

***

 

He thought Ronan would be happier when they told him, but something in his eyes seemed vacant as Malory explained the procedure to him. His fingers played with his hospital bracelet, bringing it to his mouth and chewing while his doctors spoke.

 

After the brief, they began to file from the room, though Gansey lingered by his bedside. “I’m going to call Declan, so he’s here when you wake up.”

 

“I’d literally rather you cut off my foot while we’re in there, and then feed it to me.”

 

“There’s no need to be so dramatic, Lynch. I’ll arrange for Noah to pick you up when you’re discharged too, but that won’t be for a week or so.” He had sat down in the chair by Ronan’s bedside, reclining in what seemed a rather un-Gansey-like way to Adam. Perhaps it was just unlike Doctor Richard Gansey, and this was what Gansey was more often like. Adam liked it. He seemed relaxed.

 

Adam thought he had gone unnoticed, hovering by the door, until Ronan spoke up.

 

“I want to talk to Parrish.” Gansey looked from Ronan to Adam and then back to his friend, and tilted his head, as if to say, go ahead. “Alone.”

 

Gansey frowned but stood anyway, giving Adam a glance as he passed him. Adam shrugged, telling Gansey he had no idea what this was about either. The door was shut as he left, and Adam crossed to take Gansey’s place in the chair.

 

“It’s still _Dr_. Parrish, y’know,” he made an attempt to bait Ronan, wanted him to say something snappy back instead of looking at him with grave eyes. “The good thing is, they won’t have to shave your hair.”

 

He gestured towards his head, startled when Ronan caught his wrist, fingers wrapping around it. Could he feel his pulse? Did he know what to look for? With the way it quickened, it seemed unlikely that he wouldn’t notice it. He pushed that thought away.

 

“My dad died when I was sixteen,” Ronan said, abruptly.

 

“I’m sorry-”

 

“Just – let me finish, okay? A few years after that, my mom got sick. It wasn’t that serious to begin with, but she went into hospital and didn’t come out.” This time Adam didn’t try to interrupt. Instead he listened, watching the way Ronan’s thumb brushed against his veins. Did he notice he was doing that?

 

“That can’t be me. My family – they can’t go through that, not again. I have Matthew to think of. Declan. Noah. The guys at the station. Gansey.” He looked up at Adam. “I gotta make it out.”

 

“Ronan, it’s a relatively simple operation. Malory’s done it a hundred times. Gansey’s done a few himself. It’s going to be okay.” Was that the first time he had called him Ronan to his face? He couldn’t remember. Ronan hadn’t let go of his wrist.

 

“Can you promise that?” He sounded sceptical, and he had reason. Things happened, there were unforeseen circumstances and obstacles. They both knew that.

 

“Making promises like that is never a good idea.” Ronan nodded, as if that was exactly the answer he was expecting.

 

Before he could think better of it, Adam slid his wrist out of Ronan’s hold, but only enough so that he could grip his hand instead. He held it tightly, hoping that Ronan could feel the reassurance he was trying to give him.

 

“I’m gonna be in there. I’ll just be observing so I’ll keep watch. If it even looks like you’re thinking of going somewhere, I’ll be right in your ear reminding you why you need to stick around.”

 

Already Ronan’s stony expression was beginning to ease. He rolled his eyes, for good measure. “Yeah, that might help if I wasn’t unconscious.”

 

“You’d be surprised by what helps sometimes. Regardless, I’ll watch over you, I promise that.”

 

Was this better bedside manner? Or was it as intimate as it felt? It had grown dark outside as his shift dragged on, and now in this room it was only the warm glow of the overhead lamp that cast light on Ronan’s face. Vaguely, Adam noticed that the rain had stopped. He let go of Ronan’s hand, but not before squeezing it one last time.

 

“I can stick around until they come to get you,” he offered, sitting back in the chair. Ronan grunted something that could have been a yes or perhaps a whatever. He seemed to be recovering from his vulnerable moment. “What do you do when you’re not fighting fires or falling from trees?”

 

This distracted him suitably. “Play operation with baby doctors, apparently.” His wicked grin was back while Adam waited for a real answer. “God, life seems like work mostly. I really did not expect to be one of those people. I drive a lot, my car’s a thing of beauty, you gotta see it. Go to Matty’s soccer games every other weekend. End up at the station’s gym a lot.”

 

Adam wrinkled his nose. “Think I went for a run with Blue once.”

 

“Once,” Ronan mocked. “Who’s Blue?”

 

“I think we established today that she’s my Gansey, actually.” Ronan looked puzzled. “It’s a long story, Gansey thought she was my girlfriend but she’s like family.”

 

Ronan was back to fiddling with his hospital bracelet. “Is there a girlfriend?”

 

“There is not,” Adam almost laughed. Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Really, it’s hard to date as an intern. I feel like I’m married to this hospital half the time.”

 

“Sounds like a love hate relationship,” Ronan quipped.

 

“Oh, you have no idea.” Though, Adam thought, he probably did. “Tell me about this car.”

 

***

 

Somehow he lost track of time and when the orderlies arrived to prep Ronan and take him to the OR, Adam had learnt even more about him. He drove a decked out BMW, used to race it before joining the squad and dragging people out of car wrecks became part of the job description. His gym routine was crazy, it had to be, he supposed, to be able to drag people out of car wrecks. It tired Adam out to hear it. His family was Irish but he loved Italian food, boasted that he wasn’t actually that bad a cook.

 

Now Adam would watch people dig around inside his head. Safe in the certainty that this surgery would go well, Adam let himself grow excited to finally get back inside the OR. Even if all he did was watch. He reminded himself of his promise to Ronan while he washed up, scrubbing his hands thoroughly.

 

“What did he want to talk about?” Gansey asked, appearing beside him to do the same. His mask was already in place, hair tucked under his scrub cap. It had a floral pattern, that for some reason suited him.

 

“He was-” There was a reason he hadn’t wanted Gansey there. Adam was willing to bet that if Gansey knew Ronan was worried, he would be worried himself. “He had a few questions about the surgery. Wanted me to explain it in a way he would understand.”

 

His mouth was hidden, but Adam could tell from the crinkle off his eyes that Gansey was smiling. “You did a good job today. Ronan isn’t always easy to get on with. Getting to know him, that one conversation you had yesterday – it could well have saved his life. I’m not saying you should play board games with all of your patients,” Adam winced, unaware he knew about that, “but you’re finding that balance.”

 

“Thanks to you,” Adam pointed out, rinsing the soap off. He watched the suds run down the drain.

 

“I’ll refrain from taking too much credit. Enjoy it in there, you earned this.” He nodded through the glass window, where the OR was prepped and ready to go, Ronan already on the table, covered from the shoulders down.

 

“Well,” Gansey said, dipping his hands into the gloves a nurse had waiting for him. He held each in the air in front of his face once they were clad. “Excelsior.”

 

***

 

The surgery went without a hitch. Adam watched from a suitable distance, cataloguing each of Malory’s and Gansey’s movements. At one point, Gansey glanced up and beckoned him closer. He pointed him to one of the microscopes they were working with, considering that Ronan’s aneurysm was so minute, and Adam looked down it. There he watched the rest of the surgery, following with baited breath.

 

Afterwards, he practically floated through the debrief, all the way through until he ended up in Ronan’s room. Technically his shift was over. He should go home, take a good long shower and boast to Blue and Henry about his time in the OR and everything he got to observe.

 

But he found himself in the chair in the corner of Ronan’s room, a grin still plastered on his face as he drifted off. He supposed that twenty minutes shut eye couldn’t hurt.

 

When he came too, it was because Ronan was doing the same. A glance at the clock on the wall told him twenty minutes had been more like an hour. Ronan was trying to sit up.

 

“Hey, hey,” Adam stood, placing a hand on Ronan’s shoulder to ease him back down. “You just had brain surgery. Take it easy. I’ll page Gansey.”

 

Ronan looked as though he was struggling to keep his eyes open, shifting them groggily around the room. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Opened it and paused. Finally, he ground out: “Go okay?”

 

“It went really well, Lynch.”

 

“Thank _fuck_ ,” he muttered. His head lolled back, neck giving up on holding the weight of it, and from there he gazed up at Adam. God, his eyes really were striking. “You’re smiling,” he pointed out, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk that caused a dimple to dent his cheek. “Suits you.”

 

With that, he was swept up by sleep once more. Adam made good on his word, paging Gansey, and tried not to think about the way Ronan Lynch had dimples when he gave a sleepy smile. If he focused on that, he would be even more well and truly screwed than he already felt.

 

***

 

Ronan was discharged a week later. By that time Adam was no longer on his case, but whenever it was time appropriate he would have his breaks in Ronan’s room. They traded operation for cards, Ronan teaching him the games they played during quiet hours at the station. He watched as Ronan became livelier following the surgery and saw how badly he took the news that he couldn’t return to work for three months after it, despite the brilliant recovery he was making. Adam was sure it was mostly from stubbornness. Or perhaps spite.

 

Adam didn’t realise that it was his last day until he arrived on his floor and heard someone giving the name Lynch at the desk.

 

“First name, Declan. I need my brother’s papers.” The man didn’t remind Adam of Ronan immediately. He wore a sharp suit, his hair slicked back in a way that might have made someone else look like a tool, but Declan looked classic. The longer he watched him, bent over the clipboard by the nurses station, he could see the similarities, the angled jaw and bright blue eyes.

 

“Mr. Lynch?” Adam approached him. “I’m Dr. Parrish, I’ve worked with Ronan a little.”

 

“Dr. Adam Parrish?” Declan raised an eyebrow and there was the similarity again. He handed the clipboard back and Adam worked to not appear startled that he knew his name. “I’ve already spoken with Richard Gansey. He swears you’re partly responsible for Ronan’s well recovery. Thank you.”

 

His matter-of-factness was almost abrasive, but Adam forced a smile. “Dr. Gansey is being modest on his own part. But it was my pleasure.”

 

“Treating Ronan was a pleasure?” Declan scoffed, turning on his heel towards said brother’s room. “I find that hard to believe.”

 

Ronan’s room had been cleared out, no more cards from his brother or the station guys, or flowers that Gansey insisted brightened the room. His pack of cards didn’t rest on his bedside table. Instead, there was a wheelchair waiting in the corner, a packed duffle bag on the bed, and beside it Ronan Lynch sitting on its edge. He was dressed in sweats and a long sleeve black t-shirt that stretched along his broad shoulders. At his feet, someone with a bright blonde head of hair was tying his shoe laces.

 

“I can do it myself,” Ronan grumbled.

 

“You might get dizzy, and then you’ll fall over and hit your head and we’ll be back to square one and we can’t have that because the apartment has been so _boring_.” The blonde’s voice was cheerful, in contrast to Ronan’s scornful expression.

 

“He’s got a point,” Adam said.

 

“Oh!” The blonde exclaimed, sitting back. “Hello! You must be Dr. Parrish. And hello to you too, Declan.” He added, cheekily. Declan didn’t answer, just sat in a chair to wait.

 

“That’s me. You must be Noah?” Adam stuck out his hand.

 

Noah took it, but dragged his fingers back in a snapping motion, like it was a secret handshake Adam wasn’t in on. “Ronan talked about me? You’re a softie, really, aren’t you?” Another grumble from Ronan. “Hey, you’re right y’know, bud, he does look like one of those TV doctors. A real life McDreamy, you weren’t exaggerating.”

 

“Noah, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear I’ll knock myself out again so I don’t have to go home with you.”

 

“Zipping it.”

 

Adam’s cheeks felt hot, but thought that they probably paled in comparison to the red tips of Ronan’s ears. He didn’t know why his insides felt like mush at the idea of Ronan talking about him.

 

“Not to be pushy, but could we maybe get a move on? I’ve got a lunch to get too,” Declan gave a pointed look at his watch. “Hop in the chair so we can leave.”

 

Ronan looked affronted, turned to Adam, embarrassment forgotten momentarily. “I don’t really have to get in that, do I?”

 

“It is actually hospital policy, you have to leave in the wheel chair,” Adam explained, knowing he was doing a poor job to hide his amusement. 

 

“It’ll be fun, I’ll push you,” Noah seemed excited by the idea.

 

Ronan groaned, blatantly pained by the whole matter. A snarky retort died in Adam’s throat when Ronan stood. Adam’s eyes followed him up, and carried on going up and up, it felt like. “You’re tall,” he said, dumbly.

 

“I suppose you’ve only seen me bed ridden,” Ronan shrugged. “My legs feel like fucking jelly though.”

 

“Hence the wheelchair.” Adam didn’t know how to feel about having to look up at Ronan now, even if there couldn’t have been more than a few inches difference at most.

 

Ronan looked as though he was trying to chew the smirk off of his face, suppressing it. “Hence the wheelchair.”

 

Without any air of grace, Ronan dumped himself into the chair as Noah brought it round. Together, the four of them left his room, Adam unsure of when he made the choice to escort them all the way to reception. He liked seeing Noah and Ronan joking, even if his heart picked up when Noah ran the pair of them down an empty corridor, hopping on the back bar of the chair to glide with him.

 

“Czerny! He had his head opened up less than a week ago, please, please, be careful, nobody wants Ronan complaining anymore,” Declan sounded exhausted. Then, he muttered under his breath. “The great men of our fire service.”

 

Adam couldn’t help but laugh at that.

 

When they arrived at the exit, Noah disappeared with Declan to pull their car out front.

 

“This it, then?” Ronan asked, eyes out on the parking lot.

 

“It better be,” Adam said. “I mean it, I don’t want to see you back here. No falling out of trees, or breaking bones, or running into burning buildings.”

 

“All in a day’s work, unfortunately.” Ronan looked up at him from his chair. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get rid of me.”

 

“What, you wanna stick around and eat hospital jello some more?”

 

He scrunched up his face. “Absolutely not.” In front of them a sleek car had pulled up and Noah was beginning to clamber out. “Thanks, Parrish.”

 

“Technically, I’m not your doctor anymore. You can call me Adam.” He wasn’t sure why he made the offer.

 

“Adam,” Ronan tested the name in his mouth. Adam watched his lips move as he did so. Then he shook his head. “Parrish, that's better. But for real, thank you. For keeping our deal.”

 

“I’m a man of my word,” he assured him. Why was he dragging this out? Why was the idea of Ronan getting in that car and driving away making him chest feel unbearably tight? He should be happy that his recovery had gone so well, not sad that he was losing his lunch partner. “Goodbye, Lynch.”

 

“Bye,” Ronan said. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something else, but Noah appeared at his side.

 

They loaded him into the car, and Adam took the chair, not watching as the car left. He went back inside and found his way to his and Blue’s and Henry’s corridor, only to find it empty. He pulled himself onto a gurney and began to eat his peanut butter sandwich, alone this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! this chapter title is from Breath (2AM) - Anna Nalick because I was just listening to the greys anatomy soundtrack oops. Come and chat to me on tumblr (sweater-sasquatch), I'd love to hear from you <3 - kat


	3. in the mouths of a bad decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Ronan meet again five months down the line. Gansey gets Adam in on a surgery that doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone happy friday! hope you all enjoy this chapter <3
> 
> warnings for this chapter: character with a broken ankle, some discussion of minor injuries, and brain surgery. it's an awake craniotomy to remove a cancerous tumour, which I know might be upsetting to some - it does have some complications. as always that will be under a line as opposed to *** and can be skipped if needs be.

There was a bar a block away from the hospital. It served cheap beer and the greasiest burgers in town, and every so often, especially after a hard day, Adam and his trio found themselves there to celebrate the end of a shift. Today was a special occasion – they had a day off the following day, the beauty of all being assigned to Gansey as their resident was that their schedules often coincided. The fact they had a day off meant they could get thoroughly trashed.

 

“Tequila!” Blue cheered, as Henry arrived at their table with two shots and three beers.

 

Or – Blue and Henry could get trashed. Adam had drawn the short straw as designated driver, and would now nurse his single beer throughout the entire evening. That was okay, he didn’t much feel up to partying.

 

“Are you still moping about your favourite patient?” Henry pushed his beer towards him.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam lied.

 

Blue took her shot, slammed it back, and spoke wincing. “He’s talking about you being all miserable since Ronan Lynch was discharged. It’s been two weeks.”

 

“I’m not miserable,” he protested.

 

It was true, he wasn’t. He wasn’t moping either. It was just occasionally, something would happen, a funny incident or difficult day, and he would find himself wishing he could wander back up to Ronan’s room and tell him about it. Or just be distracted for half an hour.

 

Maybe it was that he missed having conversations with someone who didn’t want to just talk about surgery or sutures or a patient they had. Even if usually Adam could talk about that all day long. Speaking of which, he had watched a Whipple procedure at lunch that day, he was about to tell them about it when Henry spoke.

 

“Why don’t you just ask Gansey how he’s getting on?” Henry took a sip, eyeing him suspiciously. “Maybe get him to pass along your number. Y’know. For home visits.”

 

“Shut up, Cheng,” Adam rolled his eyes. “I can’t do that.”

 

“Why not? He’s right there.” Henry pointed with his beer bottle in hand, towards a lone Gansey standing at the bar. He was chuckling at something the bartender said, stuffing a generous tip into the jar besides the peanuts.

 

“Ugh,” Blue stuck out her tongue. “Of course he wears polo shirts. It makes me want him to put the scrubs back on.”

 

“He does look unfairly good in them, doesn’t he? Pristine enough to know he has great personal hygiene but the stethoscope really says, rough and ready to practice medicine, don’t you think?”

 

“Henry, I am begging you – stop talking,” Adam pleaded.

 

“Fine, fine,” Henry relented. Then he put down his beer to cup his hands around his mouth. “Gansey-man! Over here!”

 

“What are you doing?” Blue hissed, yanking Henry down by his collar. “I can’t drink with our resident! Drunk Blue is even more outspoken than regular Blue and I already insulted his shoes when he came in this morning, I really don’t want to ruin my chances of ever seeing the inside of an OR sometime this year.”

 

“Relax,” Henry said, still in the process of waving him over, “I’m pretty sure he finds your little spiels endearing. Plus, we can ask about our favourite fireman.”

 

Gansey was already making his way over, moving through tables and patrons with ease. He approached their table, a smile on his face. “Interns!” He greeted.

 

“Hi,” Blue murmured, without an ounce of enthusiasm.

 

“Take a seat,” Henry kicked at the chair next to Adam, pushing it out.

 

“Are you sure?” The skin between Gansey’s eyebrows puckered as his face became uncertain. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

 

It occurred to Adam that they were not the only surgeons in the bar at this moment. There were probably plenty of other doctors who would love for Richard Gansey to sit with them, to get his opinion on a case, to ask about what his mother was working on at the moment, who he thought would win the Greenmantle Award this year. Gansey was probably just as tired as any other doctor that had finished a shift, he wasn’t some surgical robot. Adam had seen his mask fall a few times while Ronan was still around, he became something wearier, but somehow more content than he looked with a politician’s smile.

 

“Join us,” Adam offered. “Blue and Henry are looking to drink like it’s college again. I’m driving, so feel free to join them.”

 

He dodged Blue’s foot aiming for his under the table with by crossing his legs. She shot him a glare, which he returned with a practiced ease. For a moment there was a silent battle, and then Blue huffed.

 

“You can stay if you promise I can forget that you’re our superior for tonight,” Blue pointed at him. “I don’t want to drink with Doctor Richard Gansey the third.”

 

There was something about the smile he gave her return, as if she couldn’t have said anything he would rather hear. “That’s fine by me – just Gansey.”

 

“Just Gansey,” Blue still sounded wary. “Oh, and you have to buy a round.”

 

Gansey laughed, as he settled in the chair next to Adam. “I’m pretty sure I have a tab going.”

 

The look Henry and Blue exchanged was almost devious, standing together to get refills already.

 

“I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?” He said to Adam, watching them leave, marching towards the bartender with new found purpose.

 

“Oh yeah,” Adam nodded. “Big time.”

 

They sat quietly for a moment, Adam trying to make his single drink last while still wanting something to do with his hands. Gansey seemed content to people watch, not filling their silence unnecessarily, checking his phone when it buzzed. It jogged Adam’s memory and he fought the urge to ask. But he lost the fight within a minute.

 

“How’s Ronan doing?”

 

His resident appeared to brighten at the question, his smile turning fond almost instantly. “Entirely hating being on rest. He’s even more of a pain now he’s at home, I suspect he’s just ready to go back to his normal routine. He only has another,” his eyes glanced towards the ceiling as he did the maths, “ten weeks to go. He’s bored and grumpy and complaining about everything.”

 

“You love it,” Adam said, hiding a smirk behind the neck of his bottle.

 

“Absolutely. He’s back to his old self. Not that I had any doubt, of course. Stubborn creature, he is.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Adam squashed down the feeling welling in his chest, willed himself to get a grip. He was just a patient. They come and go all the time.

 

He was distracted by Henry and Blue returning to the table, a tray balanced precariously as they danced to the tune Henry was humming. It was only when Henry settled the tray and they both sang, “tequila!” did he recognise it. He didn’t miss the extra shot for Gansey, nor the way he squeezed his eyes tightly shut after downing it.

 

***

 

It was five months before Adam saw Ronan again.

 

During that time, spring rolled into summer dragging a haze of heat along with it, Adam turned a year older (twenty-six was _not_ that old, he told himself repeatedly) and he entered the last month of his internship. He did not think about Ronan Lynch.

 

Unless he passed what had been his room for his short stay. Or if someone mentioned firefighters, or kites, or trees, or Italian food, or working out, or BMWs. Or if Gansey brought him up at the bar – he was now a regular addition to their occasional after work drinks, where he kept his word on being Just Gansey, who Adam found he much preferred. Even if Gansey spoke about him, Adam never pressed or asked how he was, and eventually Henry and Blue dropped the matter. As far as anyone knew, Adam had moved along from their encounter, like any well-adjusted person would have. It wasn’t as if he thought about Ronan constantly, the man just managed to crop up in his mind every so often.

 

Mostly, Adam worked. He logged more OR time, ran long hours, got terrible rest in the on call room – loved it just as much as he hated it.

 

He thought he was imagining it when he heard that deep, rumbling voice in the ER. He had been working the pit all morning, people enjoying the summer weather often lead to stupid injuries. He had treated sunburns to the near third degree, frisbee induced concussions, one man had come in after his brother stabbed him with a pair of barbecue tongs.

 

“Stop squirming,” the voice ordered. It came from behind a divider as Adam passed, heading to claim his break before something urgent came in, but it made him stop mid-stride.

 

“I can’t, this bed is so uncomfortable,” another voiced whined.

 

Adam stepped around the divider and saw Ronan Lynch hovering besides a younger man with a mop of golden curls. He was wearing a soccer uniform, his leg elevated and ankle red and swollen.

 

Ronan – well, he was definitely in good health. His time off seemed to have had no impact on his physique, or it was something Ronan had made considerable effort to regain when he had been given the okay for exercise. He wore a black t-shirt, a logo by his peck reading ‘CABESWATER FIRE DEPT.’ and on the other side his name was printed. Judging by the boots and trousers, reflective panelling on their cuffs, he had come straight from work. There was still the scar by his ear, the gentle curve from his surgery.

 

“Parrish?” He squinted as if he wasn’t quite sure he was seeing it right.

 

“Lynch,” Adam let his mouth curve around his name, close enough to the smile he was biting back. “Thought I told you to keep out of trouble?”

 

“ _I_ have been. This idiot, on the other hand, couldn’t help himself.” He jerked his head towards the boy on the bed, folding his arms tightly across his chest, muscles flexing as he did so.

 

“I can see that.” Adam conjured the friendly, patient smile he had been working on and turned to the boy in the bed, unsure of what he would say if he looked at Ronan longer. “I’m Dr. Parrish. I can do your assessment, if you’re ready?”  

 

Recognition flooded the boy’s face, morphing into a devilish grin. “Oh, so _this_ is Dr. Parrish?” Ronan swatted the back of his head. “Ow! Oh, sorry. Gansey’s mentioned you a bit.”

 

So, he knew Gansey too?

 

“This is Matthew,” Ronan clarified and Adam wasn’t sure how he hadn’t put two and two together. Perhaps it was because the boy didn’t share as many sharp features as the other Lynch brothers, his face was rounder, more angelic. “His ankle is broken.”

 

“It doesn’t hurt unless you touch it,” Matthew objected.

 

“You’re just in shock, trust me, it will,” his older brother told him, and then turned to Adam again. “It’s broken. I’m a first responder, we fill in for paramedics sometimes.”

 

That shouldn’t have been hot - but Adam had already realised that he didn’t think straight with regards to Ronan Lynch. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

 

He dug a pair of gloves from the bedside’s cart and then began to examine it, asking Matthew questions about how it had happened, could he move it this way, could he describe his pain, and came to a conclusion. “It’s broken.”

 

Ronan stuck out his tongue at his brother.

 

“Pretty bad break too, by the look of it but you’ll need an x-ray. I’ll page an ortho consult, and Gansey too. Unless he already knows you’re here?”

 

An answer was unnecessary, because at that moment the man himself drew back the curtain. Gansey entered, still wearing his scrub cap, and lacking his usual white coat.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Ronan muttered, catching Adam’s eye with a private smirk.

 

“There you are, I’ve been all over the ER. Busy day isn’t it?" Gansey exhaled, and then glanced over the patient. “Matthew, soccer accident?”

 

“I fell over the ball,” Matthew mumbled, folding his arms as Gansey moved to examine him as Adam had done. Adam didn’t bother to mention already having done this, Gansey’s opinion always seemed to have a little bit more insight.

 

“Hm, definitely a break. But I’m willing to bet it isn’t clean either, see the restricted movement both sides? Parrish, could you page ortho for me? We might be looking at the possibility of surgery.” Adam nodded as Gansey peeled off his gloves. He waited as Gansey considered something, slowly drawing his thumb over his bottom lip. “Page Sargent too.”

 

“Blue?” Adam frowned. “She’s not on pit today.”

 

If there was a surgery, he wanted in. They were all sharks around here, a surgery was blood in the water and he knew that Blue would stake her own claim if she stumbled across one. But it wasn’t up to him.

 

“I know that. But, she’s interested in pursuing ortho, isn’t she? It would be good experience, and she would be able to spend some time with the orthopaedic attendings, make an impression.”

 

All three of the other men in the room were staring at Gansey, while he fumbled, pink slightly starting to stain his face. Matthew’s grin was back and so was Ronan’s smirk.

 

“Is this how surgeons flirt? You give each other surgeries?” Ronan turned to Adam for clarification.

 

“I am not flirting! I am merely being a considerate resident, for _all_ of my interns – Adam, I got you that _assisting_ on that appendectomy last month.”

 

“Watch out, Parrish, he’s flirting with you too.”

 

“Hey, it would work on me,” Adam shrugged. “Better than roses. Or chocolate. Find me a quadruple bypass and I’ll start swooning.”

 

“You know, I assisted on one of those a few months back-” Gansey started, excitably.

 

“No. No nerdy, gross surgery talk. Page Purple or whatever her name was and get him an x-ray so I can fuck off.” 

 

“I’ll get an orderly on it.” Gansey was still sat on the stool besides Matthew’s bed, his feet dragging along the linoleum floor. “Where were you off to now, Parrish?”

 

“Actually, I was just about to start my break,” he said. He was dying for some coffee and had been thinking about that granola bar at the bottom of his satchel for the last hour and a half. What an exciting life, he thought bitterly.

 

“Okay, take Ronan with you before he drives the nurses crazy. He’ll be alright to stay in the resident lounge while we see what can be done about this ankle, hm? Then I want you in oncology – there’s a surgery happening today, that I suspect you might like to join me on.”

 

“More flirting, Dick?” If Adam wasn’t mistaken, Ronan was narrowing his eyes at the man.

 

Suddenly his life did look a little bit more exciting. If it was oncology and Gansey, likelihood was a brain tumour resection. Adam thanked his resident, paged Blue and ortho while an orderly collected Matthew and left for the cafeteria with Ronan in tow. It was impossible not to notice Ronan’s fidgeting hands, eyes taking in all of the hospital they passed.

 

“He’ll be alright, y’know,” Adam said. “He’ll be in radiology for an hour, tops, especially if the orderly mentioned that he knows Gansey.”

 

Ronan shoved his hands into the pockets of his work pants, as if annoyed they betrayed his trail of thought. He didn’t comment on Matthew. “So he’s a big deal around here, then?”

 

“Who, Gansey? Surgical royalty, think Blue said once. His family is a big deal, and Gansey – well, he measures up, even though he’s only in his third year.”

 

They had come to a halt, having reached the line for food in the cafeteria. He watched as Ronan loaded a tray with a salad, a slice of pizza and a hamburger. “Hungry, by any chance?”

 

“Matty’s coach called me before the station served lunch and that was a few hours ago. We eat a lot.” Ronan waited while Adam ordered his coffee and then he handed over enough cash to cover all of it. 

 

He thought about objecting, or telling Ronan that he could afford his own coffee, an instinct left over from a time when he probably couldn’t have actually spared the pennies for it, but squashed the urge with a ‘thank you’ while he found them a seat. It wasn’t often he sat in the cafeteria, but found he didn’t mind it, sitting opposite Ronan now.

 

“How’ve you been?” Adam asked, stirring some cream into his drink.

 

“Haven’t fallen out of any trees lately.” He stabbed at a piece of tomato and popped it into his mouth. When he was finished chewing, he spoke again. “It’s been good to be back at the station. Everyone at there was really good about it, but the time off just made me feel,” he searched for a word, crinkling his nose, “useless? I guess. Out of the loop. Jordan ended up sending me some videos of everyone after a while, which didn’t suck.”

 

It was strange, Adam thought, how five months had passed since he had even seen Ronan, but it felt just as though they were falling into an old routine. Adam arriving in his room, exchanging stories. The little snippets of his life that Ronan shared, Adam could tell were things not offered to everyone, and he couldn’t ignore the warmth that sparked in him.

 

“Jordan sounds like a good guy,” he said, knowing Ronan wouldn’t want him to focus on how the time off made him feel.

 

“Yeah,” There was a twitch in the corner of Ronan’s mouth, that dimple threatening to reappear. “ _She’s_ great.”

 

“Oh, I-”

 

“Forgot women could be firefighters?” The lift to Ronan’s eyebrow told him that he didn’t believe that was true in the slightest, but was in fact finding this very amusing.

 

“Of course not,” Adam protested, then dragged a hand over his face. When he began to think through his embarrassment, he noticed something else had settled over him, a quiet gnawing feeling. He wouldn’t – refused to be jealous over a girl Ronan had only mentioned. “She sounds like a good colleague. Or friend, really. Unless she’s, not just that-”

 

“Do you mean, ‘is she my girlfriend?’” Ronan scoffed, his shoulders hunched as he continued on at his salad. “Nah, she’s not my type.”

 

He shouldn’t have felt relieved at that. Adam took a sip of coffee, ignoring the way it burned his tongue – it was preferable to the heat in his cheeks. Ronan Lynch had the ability to make him feel like a high-schooler, not a doctor, a surgeon, for God’s sake.

 

“Blue’s the friend you mentioned before? How long has Gansey been pining over her for?” Ronan moved on to his slice of pizza and Adam nearly forgot to reply as he watched him chasing a pull of stringy cheese with his mouth.

 

“Honestly, before today I hadn’t even noticed. Gansey’s probably worried about keeping it professional, and the fact that Blue acts like she can’t stand him.” The more he thought about it, he couldn’t hold back a fond smile, remembering the way Blue encouraged Gansey to drink, how they had danced terribly to some Beatles song at the bar that one time. “She doesn’t actually mind him though. She’s not the kind of girl to hold back on her opinion.”

 

Ronan grabbed a napkin to dust off his hands. “Sounds exactly like the kind of girl Gansey should date. Someone who’s not afraid to tell him to shut the fuck up once in a while.”

 

“What about you? Is that more your type?” Adam’s brain was willing his mouth to shut up.

 

“No,” Ronan’s smile was almost a sly, private thing.

 

“What is your type, then?” His mouth wasn’t listening, running away with words before his head could stop it. He said it casually, as if was the same as asking about his favourite movie or band, but inside there was a silent prayer: _say doctors, say doctors with light brown hair and blue eyes and whose name is Adam Parrish._

Ronan’s eyes slid over Adam as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Men are more my type.”

 

That – that was closer than he had expected, honestly. It was clear in the way Ronan said it, the way he watched him now, that this was a challenge. He wanted to see his reaction, and it was clear why. As much as part of Adam hoped that Ronan was interested in men, he wondered how often people were shocked to learn that information about the big, surly fireman in front of him. By his guarded expression, it was clear to see how some of those people had reacted.

 

“Mine too,” Adam said. “Well, not just men. But men too.”

 

He remembered the first time he had told anyone that, confessing to Blue late after a party in med school, having just been kissed by Harry Ingrids in the year above. It had taken him, in hindsight, an embarrassingly long time to recognise his attraction to the same gender, to all genders, but he was almost proud now – able to admit it freely despite the opinions he had been raised around.

 

“Cool,” Ronan nodded. “Does the cafeteria food always taste like shit or did they know I was coming?”

 

***

 

After taking Ronan to the empty resident’s lounge, per Gansey’s request, and telling him he would be back when Matthew had been assigned a room, Adam made his way to oncology. As he entered the ward, he was greeted by the sounds of singing. It was a deep, warbling, operatic voice. Beautiful, he found himself thinking, as he followed it to the source.

 

Gansey was outside a patient’s room, watching through the window in the door as the patient sang to the two of the nurses inside. When he saw him approaching, Gansey lifted a finger to his lips, and then gestured for him to take a look.

 

“Puccini’s Che Gelida Manina, from La Boheme,” Gansey whispered. “Do you know it?”

 

“That would be a no. I’ve seen Rent though.”

“Marvelous, isn’t he?” He barrelled on, as the patient ended his song. They still didn’t enter the room. “His name is Lewis O’Connor, I’ve been helping treat him for a few weeks now. He’s twenty-three years old, already known nationally and has a glioma on his temporal lobe. Malory and I are resecting as much of it as possible today.”

 

“You want me to scrub in?”

 

“Yes, I want you to monitor Lewis during the procedure. He’ll be awake and we’ve asked if he would be willing to sing – albeit quieter, perhaps. This way-”

 

“You’ll be able to monitor his functions while you work.”

 

“Exactly.” An awake craniotomy wasn’t particularly rare, but he usually the patient just engaged in conversation. “It’s perfect, he has to recall the lyrics, that are in Italian and sing them – we can monitor so much at once.”

 

Before Adam could respond his pager buzzed. “It’s Blue, think she’s gotten Matthew settled.”

 

Gansey nodded,. “Go. Take Ronan there before he gets too restless and destroys the lounge or something.” As if Ronan was a puppy left alone for too long, worried about his owner. “And I’ll see you in the OR.”

 

***

 

When Ronan and Adam arrived in Matthew’s room, Blue was sitting in the visitor’s chair, hugging one knee to her chest. He tried to imagine seeing her for the first time, through Ronan’s eyes – a tiny, vibrant thing with dark wild hair, a menagerie of clips attempting to keep it out of her face, excitedly describing a surgery.

 

“So then after that, we fit the plates using a drill-” Blue stopped as they entered. “Adam! And Ronan, hello. I was just telling Matthew about the surgery he’ll be having tomorrow.”

 

“He needs surgery?” Ronan frowned, failing to keep the concern out of his voice as it dropped lower.

 

Matthew nodded, solemnly. “If I want to keep the leg.”

 

He proceeded to burst into laughter at the daunted expression on his older brother’s face.

 

“He’s kidding, he’s kidding,” Blue assured him. “I should have mentioned, he’s on a lot of pain meds right now.”

 

“Unfortunately, this is just Matthew.” He stepped further into the room, going to his brother’s side to muss up his curls. “He’s trying to give me another aneurysm.”

 

“Now you know how Declan feels.” Matthew poked him in the chest, so Ronan wrapped his hand to cover his mouth and stop him talking.

 

He jumped back, shaking his hand and wiping it on his pants, after Matthew licked it. “Disgusting.”

 

Adam stuck around for a little while, until the nurse informed Ronan that visiting hours were over and he would have to leave now Matthew was settled. He seemed to be debating putting up a fight, but glanced down at himself and agreed that it might be best to get home and shower. He told Adam that he had agreed to drive Gansey home after he was finished, so he might see him later. Adam said goodbye, ignoring the happy little hum in his chest knowing that it wouldn’t be another five months, and tried to focus on the louder hum – he had a surgery to get to.

 

***

 

Adam thought he knew why they used to call them ‘operating theatres’. Technically, he knew it was because surgeries used to be watched, amphitheatre style, which was less common nowadays, even if some of their ORs still had galleries. But to him, he thought it had nothing to do with the style of the room.

 

The operating room currently, was like a stage before a play started. Actors, stagehands, tech and crew, prepping for showtime. Scrub nurses, anaesthesiologists, technicians were setting up, Lewis already on the operating table, awake and tilted at an angle, while Malory and Gansey washed up – the main players.

 

“Well, let’s save a life, shall we?” Gansey asked, following Malory into the room. Today, Gansey was doing most of the surgery on his own, with his mentor close by his side in case he was needed. “How are you feeling, Lewis?”

 

“A little nervous,” Lewis admitted, head secure so only his eyes shifted from doctor to doctor. “But ready. Warmed up my voice before they moved me.”

 

“Fantastic. We’ll get started, then.” Gansey beamed, but as soon as he moved to stand behind his patient, his face deflated to a more serious expression. He was steady, focused – ready. “Excelsior.”

 

“Excelsior,” Adam found himself muttering in response, into his surgical mask.

 

* * *

 

 

They began – Gansey opened, creating a flap in the scalp and then removing part of the skull, giving him access to the temporal lobe, all the while Lewis spoke to Adam. It was hard, finding a constant stream of questions to ask him and keep him distracted but necessary. By chance, he looked over Lewis and saw the look Malory and Gansey exchanged.

 

“Uh, Lewis, we want to test your brain function, so I’m going to ask you to start singing now,” Adam requested, meeting Gansey’s eye.

 

They weren’t looking to test yet, Adam knew, but he wanted to give his superiors a chance to talk without Lewis listening. When Lewis began, his voice low, smooth like velvet, Adam crossed to where the surgeons were talking in hushed tones. Gansey gestured for Adam to take a look.

 

“The tumour has grown substantially,” Gansey explained. “And quickly too. It’s expanded to the parietal lobe.”

 

“Does this change anything?”

 

Gansey’s eyebrows pinched together. “Possibly. It means we have a choice – we could close up now, try to shrink the tumour with some radiation therapy and try again another day. But if that doesn’t work we’re short on time as it is, without this surgery he’s been given months before he really begins to deteriorate – and it’s an anaplastic astrocytoma, so it will grow quickly. And if it continues onto the parietal, that risks coordination, speech-”

 

“His voice.” Adam listened in the lull, the rumble of the operatic voice still filling the room. “What’s the other option?”

 

“We carry on, try to resect as much as possible. Risk is lot higher now though.” He turned to Malory, waiting for an order that didn’t come.

 

“This is your surgery,” Malory told him. “The day where I will no longer be over your shoulder to direct you this way and that is swiftly approaching. Trust your own judgment.”

 

This was clearly not the answer Gansey had been hoping for, judging by the breath he sucked in. Adam watched his throat bob and his eyes shut for a moment, instrument in hand. When he opened them, his mind had been made up. “We continue.”

 

Lewis’ singing continued throughout, cycling through his repertoire. Adam listened, watching Gansey work, monitoring any changes, but for a long time, there weren’t any.

 

“I think,” Gansey murmured. “I can get a large portion of it, if I just-”

 

The rest of what Gansey was about to say, Adam couldn’t hear. He was watching the corner of Lewis’ mouth drop, listening to the slight slur that was creeping in to his dulcet tones.

 

“Gansey,” Adam warned.

 

But it was too late. Lewis was no longer singing words, even in operatic Italian Adam could tell. It was just noise, and judging by the panicked look in Lewis’ eyes – he knew.

 

* * *

 

 

Technically, as an intern Adam wasn’t allowed to hang out in the resident’s lounge. It didn’t stop him and Blue from waiting in the empty room for Gansey’s return. He was explaining to the family how the surgery had gone, which was, in short: badly.

 

He had been surprised when, after bumping into Blue while leaving the OR and explaining what had happened, she had accompanied him to wait for their resident. Now, they found themselves sat side by side on the plush couch the residents got, aligned from shoulder to thighs even though there was space enough. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began, but it was their non-verbal form of comfort. Together they waited.

 

It wasn’t really their place. Dr. Richard Gansey was their superior, the one they were supposed to lean on and take their problems to, who fought their corner and taught them what he knew. But Gansey, at some point, had become their friend.

 

When Gansey entered, he barely registered their presence, scrubbing a hand over his face as if he could wash away the day. He crossed, sluggishly, and dumped himself into an arm chair. He looked morose, hazel eyes dark, hair ruffled from where he hadn’t fixed it after removing his scrub cap.

 

“With rehab and therapy, it’s likely he’ll get some speech back. Maybe even fully, perhaps with a stutter. But he won’t sing again – not like he could.” He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, throat working as he tried to keep his voice even. “I think I may have ruined that young man’s life.”

 

“Cancer ruined his life. You saved it,” Blue said, adamantly. She peeled herself from Adam’s side to crouch beside Gansey’s chair. “How long did he have before the surgery?”

 

He didn’t reply right away, as if aware of Blue’s point and reluctant for any attempts at comfort at this moment in time. “Months.”

 

“And now?”

 

“With the other therapies? He should be in remission by the end of the year. But what use is that?” He angled his head, to look at Blue with the least movement he could muster. “If it’s not a life he wants to live?”

 

“He will find something else to live for.” Blue left no room for argument in her voice.

 

Gansey didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t stop Blue from taking his hand. Adam watched her rub her thumb over his knuckles, and suddenly felt as though he was intruding on something private. He hadn’t given Gansey the comfort he wanted to, because unlike Blue, he didn’t know the words. So he stood, leaving the residents lounge.

 

He wasn’t sure where he was going. His shift was over, he should go change out of his scrubs, head home and get some rest before doing something similar tomorrow. But he kept moving, sweeping past patient rooms, doctors conversing in the halls, the clutter of the nurses station. He took the stairs to the lobby two at a time and didn’t stop, feeling as though the only way he would be able to breathe would be to get out of this building.

 

Eventually he stumbled out into the summer night air, warm on his bare arms and heaven to his lungs, stuffy as it was. He sucked in a large breath. As he let it go, he placed his hands on the back of his head, opening his chest the way his old counsellor had told him to.

 

“Parrish?” A deep voice called to him.

 

Ronan was no longer in his uniform when he appeared in front of him, but dressed in ripped jeans and a leather jacket. “What’s wrong?”

 

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, still feeling somewhat breathless.

 

“I’m picking Gansey up, remember?” His brow was furrowed. Adam removed his hands from his head.

 

“Good, that’s good. His surgery – it didn’t go well. He probably needs you right now. Needs his person.”

 

Ronan’s gaze slid over Adam, taking in his appearance before settling on his face. “And you?”

 

“And me, what?”

 

“What do you need?”  

 

The laugh that escaped Adam had no humour in it, but he couldn’t help it. What did he need? A shower, probably. Some food with vegetables in it. About twelve hours of sleep.

 

“Honestly?” Adam could hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “Right now? I need to get as far as hell away from this hospital as possible.”

 

Ronan nodded, understanding clear in the pale blue of his eyes. “Will across town do?”

 

***

 

It did. While Adam went to his locker to change out, Ronan headed to the residents lounge and when they met again he had Blue, Gansey and from somewhere Henry, in tow. Gansey’s eyes didn’t look all that more lively, and Blue no longer held his hand, but she stuck close to his side.

 

They left together, piling into the car Ronan had spoken so fondly off. Adam could see why, as he pulled away with a speed that shocked those in the back seat into laughter. Gansey was either immune to Ronan’s driving or not present enough to register it, because he remained stoic.

 

Ronan took them to a diner, where he and Gansey had been planning on meeting Noah anyway. Noah was delighted to see they were being joined by three new, if somewhat sombre looking, people. Adam ended up seated between Ronan and Gansey, and as the night wore on and his eyes grew heavier, he had to resist the urge to rest his head on Ronan’s shoulder – it was right there after all, broad and solid. Could hold him up for a little while.

 

Instead he tilted it back, against the red leather of the booth they were sat in, the crown of it brushing against the black and white tiles that lined the walls. He didn’t talk much, but listened to Noah and Ronan regaling stories of the station; Blue had insisted that she wanted to hear about someone else’s work for once. Adam couldn’t help but be thankful they steered away from any of the harrowing events he knew they had both experienced as part of their job.

 

Close to when they were leaving, Adam turned to Gansey, who had been staring into his ice tea for a long while.

 

“For what it’s worth,” he said lowly, so the others wouldn’t hear over their own conversation. He waited for Gansey to glance at him, to know he was paying attention. “It was a decision with no right answers. I still think you made the right call, even if you don’t.”

 

It seemed as though the breath Gansey exhaled, he had been holding for a while. “Thank you, Adam.”

 

Noah drove Gansey home, while Ronan took the others back to the hospital to pick up their car. Sitting in Ronan’s passenger seat was the highlight of his evening. Ronan played terrible EDM music and enjoyed every moment of it, but let Adam find a different channel when he complained. He ripped Adam for his choices, but when Adam returned the sentiment he was gifted with his favourite smirk, the one that pressed a dimple into Ronan’s cheek.

 

Tomorrow, would be better, he decided.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! feel free to hmu on tumblr at sweater-sasquatch. this chapter title is from all in all by lifehouse because i'm raiding the scrubs soundtrack as well as greys now. sorry it wasn't especially pynch heavy - this is pretty adam centric but next chapter will be good for our boys, promise


	4. another sun soaked season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A patient forces Adam to interact with his past and make some tough decisions, Ronan is there to help him through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy friday everyone! I'm not particularly happy with this chapter writing wise but I hope you enjoy it still 
> 
> major warnings for this chapter - not much medically apart from a head injury, but warnings for child abuse***, there's a patient that is a victim and Adam reflects on his experiences. i've tried to write it so it can be skipped, as usual, and that's why the chapter's a little longer that usual. it'll be under a line and there's nothing graphic but could be distressing to some

Tomorrow would be better, he had told himself. And to begin with, it certainly seemed like it would be.

 

Rounds went well, Adam snagged Gansey’s trick questions and received an approving nod in return. If Gansey was quieter than usual, he didn’t let it affect his teaching abilities, nor rub off on his patients. Adam got the feeling, judging by his ability to summon a smile and quickly make a witty remark, Gansey was used to pretending he was feeling okay. Perhaps, he was just starting to feel better, but they didn’t round in Lewis O’Connor’s room. Maybe Gansey was off his case.

 

Henry and Adam were assigned to work the pit together for once, the emergency room having requested more interns with the summer’s influx of admissions, Blue joining them until she was called to observe her first ortho surgery. They made their way there together, jostling and joking with each other in an attempt to keep their spirits rising. Adam didn’t even notice Ronan, too busy shaking his head at Henry’s horror story about a kid that had swallowed some board game pieces last week.

 

“Uh, Parrish,” Henry paused, interrupting his reasoning for never wanting to even look at monopoly again. “Don’t look now, but there’s a very handsome fireman at the end of the hall, holding not one, but two – _two_ – cups of coffee.”

 

Regardless of Henry’s warning, Adam’s head was already swivelling at the word ‘fireman’. Truly, ‘handsome’ would have been enough for him to think of Ronan. Though handsome fireman he was, again he had ditched the uniform, wearing a snug black t-shirt and jeans, despite the August heat. He was, indeed, holding two coffees.

 

Adam left his friends, where they had paused their journey to the ER, and made his way to where Ronan was leaning against the wall.

 

“Making a habit of hanging out in hospitals, huh?” It was a challenge, fighting the twitch of his lips.

 

“You seem to enjoy it, thought I’d see what the fuss was about,” Ronan didn’t bother to keep the snark out of his voice. “It’s Matty’s surgery today. I got the day off so I could be here when he’s out.”

 

“Ah, of course. Blue’s scrubbing in on that, he’s in good hands.” Adam’s eyes dropped to the coffees he was holding, long fingers with bitten nails wrapped around them. “Thirsty?”

 

“Ha, ha,” Ronan narrowed his eyes and then looked away. “I was at the cafeteria downstairs, and I just remembered from when I was here you finished your morning tour thingy-”

 

“Rounds,” Adam supplied, helpfully.

 

“ _Rounds_ , whatever, you finished around this time. Thought you might want one, I don’t know.” Ronan looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up, scuffing a heavy boot against the waxed floor, so it squeaked.

 

“I’d love one.”

 

Ronan huffed a quiet laugh, no more than a puff of air, possibly at himself, and pressed the coffee towards Adam’s chest. He took it and sipped, which was harder than it should be with the way his smile curved his mouth. “Thanks, that was thoughtful. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

“This place is making me soft or something,” he sounded disgusted at the idea.

 

“Hey Lynch!” Henry had obviously decided he had given them enough time. He sidled up beside Adam and threw an arm around his shoulder. Blue appeared at next to Ronan, making each of their heights appear comical. “Bring enough for the whole class?”

 

“Yeah, Ronan – where’s _my_ coffee?” Blue teased, nudging him with her elbow.

 

“Fuck _off_ ,” Ronan said, with not nearly enough heat as he had wanted to muster, considering the giggles his friends were suppressing. “I’m gonna see Matty before you sharks cut him open. Enjoy the coffee. Or don’t.”

 

He definitely would, taking another sip as he watched Ronan walk away. From the sigh Henry exhaled, his friends were too.

 

“Someone has a crush,” Blue sang. Adam nearly spluttered his drink. He was rather enjoying his attraction to Ronan being a silent, unnamed, bubbling thing in his head. To put a label on, made it complicated. Didn’t it?

 

“I can’t believe he brought you coffee,” Henry sighed again. “I want a firefighter with a cool car to have a crush on me. I want coffee.”

 

Wait – that wasn’t right. _Someone_ had a crush. He didn’t think it was Ronan. Right?

 

“Ronan doesn’t have crush – what are we five?” He rolled his eyes, hoping it distracted from the heat he could feel prickling in his cheeks. “He just knew yesterday was tough, he was being nice.”

 

Blue laughed, continuing their walk to the pit. “For someone so smart, you are so, _so_ stupid,” she told him, kindly. “Matthew said he’s spoken about you.”

 

“He has?” He was failing at this casual thing he was going for. “What did he say he said?”

 

“Sorry,” Blue shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

 

 

***

 

After forty minutes in the ER, Adam could see why they had requested the extra help. Accidents had been plentiful already. A frat guy nearly drowned at a lake and had been rushed in by ambulance, a car accident had happened on the highway sending three victims their way, and a rogue ball had hit a baseball coach, rendering him unconscious.

 

Or – he was unconscious, last Adam saw. He had come to while Adam was helping with the frat guy. He was on his way to the desk, to be assigned to the next patient on a long waiting list, when he saw Blue by his bedside.

 

“Sweetheart, I know you mean well, but you’re either gonna have to let me go or get a doctor over here to tell me what’s going on.”

 

Oh no. Adam froze, waiting list forgotten, seeing a fire blazing in his friend’s eyes – despite the polite smile she had plastered on her face. In fact, the smile was growing in size, becoming almost frightening.

 

“Sorry – and I am?” Blue asked.

 

“A nurse?” The coach frowned. Adam wished that it was the curveball to the head talking, but he highly doubted it.

 

“I’m a doctor, actually. Four years of college, four years of med school, nearly one year as a surgical intern under my belt, kinda doctor. Did not do all of that to be undermined by baseball coach whose team can’t even seem to play well enough to aim at a field, kinda doctor. Understood?” It might have been the sickly sweet, dangerous tone she adopted, or the fact she was adjusting his monitor clips while she spoke, but the coach gulped before nodding.

 

“And while we’re on the subject, nurses are very important, very skilled members of our hospital. This place wouldn’t run without them and they pick up after doctors all the time. Any one of them would have been able to have told you exactly what I did, which is that you have a _concussion_ and need to stay for _observation_ , and you’d do damn well to listen to them in the future. Clear?”

 

“Crystal, ma’am.” The guy nodded almost frantically, which Adam couldn’t help but think would be bad for his concussion, and then his eyes widened. “I mean, doctor.” 

 

Blue beamed, a satisfied smile. “Good talk, coach. I’ll be back with a neuro consult soon.”

 

Perhaps that shouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was, but watching Blue hand it to that guy had been a thing of beauty.

 

“I really thought I might have had to intervene there,” Gansey had, apparently, also been stood there the whole time. He looked suitably awed, Adam thought. It was also the most expression he’d had since Lewis’ surgery – a genuine one at least.

 

“Think she’s got it covered,” Adam smirked.

 

“That she does. ‘Though she be but little…’” A small smile was edging onto Gansey’s lips, reassuring Adam in a way he didn’t know he had needed.

 

Without further comment, or finishing his quote, Gansey headed off towards the fierce girl in question, arriving as her neuro consult. Adam watched them talk, Blue plucking a pen from the pocket of Gansey’s white coat to sign a chart and sticking it in the madness of her pony tail instead of returning it. Gansey didn’t seem to mind at all.

 

* * *

 

 

His good mood vanished with his next patient.

 

He had taken their form from the nurse who admitted them, scanning it quickly while he approached the mother and son seated near the back of the ER. The sheet they had filled out on arrival said the kid had fallen down the stairs, the nurse had noted a head injury and Adam could see it, staining the blonde hair on his forehead red. The woman besides him had a face so pale it looked like paper and an iron clad grip on her child’s wrist.

 

“I’m sorry for the wait,” Adam said as he arrived in front of them. He grabbed one of the wheeling stools and sat down. “I’m Dr. Parrish, I’ll be treating you today – what’s your name?”

 

He knew the kid’s name, Billy Nichols, it was written on his information – as was his mom’s, Jacqueline Nichols – but it was good practice to ask children to introduce themselves, it showed that you cared about what they had to say. Billy didn’t answer, however. He was hardly given time to, before his mom answered for him.

 

“It’s Billy,” she had a drawl, similar to the one Adam had grown up around.

 

“Chart says that you fell down the stairs, Billy? That looks like a pretty nasty cut there, do you mind if I take a closer look?”

 

Billy, nine years old according to his forms, didn’t respond to Adam until he looked at his mother. Once she nodded, he looked up, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. Adam requested that he lay back, so he could look at the gash from a better angle.

 

“This is pretty deep,” Adam murmured, examining it with gloved fingers. He tried his best to not apply to much pressure, but Billy had only flinched the first time he reached out to touch it. “You’re a soldier, huh, Billy? How did this happen, exactly?”

 

The mom was watching him, eyes following each movement. “He was playin’ with his toy cars at the top of the stairs, stood on one and slipped. Took him down the whole flight and into our table at the bottom – that’s what he smacked his head on, stupid boy.”

 

Adam didn’t miss the way she said the insult, venom that couldn’t be covered with the polite smile she flashed him as an afterthought.

 

“Well, Billy – this is gonna need some stitches. And then we’ll have to send you for a CT scan, it’s this machine that can tell us if your head is hurt on the inside. It looks like a space ship.”

 

“No – no, he don’t need no scans.” The woman still hadn’t let go of her son’s wrist, reddening the skin. “If y’all could just fix that up, we can get going.”

 

He looked at Billy. A line of blood had dripped from the gash into his eyebrow. His eyes were pointed at the floor. Shoulders hunched. Long sleeved t-shirt in August. The way Billy flinched, not from the pain but the expectation of it. It felt like a time capsule he had buried a long time ago, somewhere far away, had just been unearthed and dumped in front of him.

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Nichols. Head injuries are very serious matters. I’m not permitted to let him leave without one.” His voice was steady, despite the turmoil he felt rising inside him.

 

“Fine,” she bit out the word. “But I’m going with him, not leaving my child with some strangers.”

 

Strangers were sometimes the better option, he thought. When had his hands started to shake? He couldn’t perform stitches like this. His heart was beginning to thunder in his chest, ringing in his ears. “If you excuse me one moment.”

 

He nearly knocked the stool over in his haste, praying the woman didn’t notice he was practically running away. He ripped the gloves off his hands as he moved, searching for someone that he could –

 

Blue. She was walking in the opposite direction, but his feet carried him in front of her. At first she frowned, but as she took in Adam and his expression, her own softened. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I need you to give that kid over there stitches, I wouldn’t ask but,” he sucked in a shaky breath. “I really can’t right now, I just need a minute, that’s all.”

 

“Okay,” Blue agreed, immediately and that helped to squash some part of the panic he had begun to brim with. “Go, take your time. Just remember I have Matthew’s surgery in an hour.”

 

He nodded, eager to get away from the ER. Blue began to walk away but on a second thought he stopped her, grabbing at her wrist. “Whatever happens, don’t leave him alone with his mom.”

 

It could have been Adam’s expression, dark and hollowed, because Blue seemed to understand. Her eyes hardened, mouth set into a hard line. “I won’t let that happen.”

 

Adam thanked her with a squeeze of his hand, grateful that she would know what he meant, and left the ER. It wasn’t the first and he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he was thankful Blue was his person.

 

***

 

He ended up on Matthew’s floor, his traitorous legs leading him there before he could realise where exactly he was heading. The elevator doors opened with a ding and he was all but ready to press the button and close them again, when he caught sight of Ronan Lynch.

 

The fireman was lying on an out of action gurney, arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed. Adam didn’t think before stepping out of the elevator and approaching him, thankful the hallway was empty – he was still shaken and didn’t think he could stomach a conversation with someone else.

 

“Lynch,” He touched a hand to his shoulder, shaking him. “Get up, you can’t sleep on this.”

 

“I was just resting my eyes,” he grumbled, opening them and blinking.

 

“Doesn’t matter, can’t sleep on it.” He pushed until Ronan relented and sat up, didn’t take his hand away as fast as he probably should have.

 

“They turfed me out of Matty’s room to get him ready, I would’ve gotten up if someone needed it, jeez.”

 

“That’s not the point, it’s bad luck.” Adam ran a hand through his hair, noticed it wasn’t shaking quite as badly as before but there was still a quiver there.

 

“I didn’t take you for the superstitious…” Ronan trailed off. He tilted his head, eyes raking over Adam. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he replied, immediately. Ronan just scoffed.

 

“Something’s wrong. Did you come here to talk about it or just to tell me off?”

 

Adam debated. Technically, he wasn’t even allowed to talk about it. And really, why was it that he wanted to talk to Ronan? Because he had trusted him with something similar in the past? That was different, at the time Adam was his doctor, it made sense Ronan would look to him for reassurance. Before yesterday he hadn’t even seen the man for five months, and now he found himself in front of him, looking for some kind of comfort. Maybe it was because, like yesterday, Ronan was able to tell something wasn’t right with a single glance.

 

“Not here,” Adam said, pinching the material of his shirt to guide him towards a supply closet. Once inside, door shut behind them, Adam ignored the bewildered expression on Ronan’s face and turned towards the shelves filled with gauzes and syringes and packing. “I – God, I don’t know how to tell you about it without making about a dozen HIPAA violations.”

 

“So don’t tell me about it,” Ronan said, turning Adam to face him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Tell me a hypothetical.”

 

He took a shuddery breath, but could already begin to feel his pulse evening out, Ronan’s hand a grounding presence for reasons he didn’t want to think about now. He nodded. “Hypothetically, say a kid came into the ER this morning, with a head injury from falling down the stairs.”

 

Ronan nodded, eyes attentive as he tried to piece together this and Adam’s current state of distress. “Right.”

 

“What if-” He exhaled, eyes searching the closet for something easier to look at than Ronan’s face. He didn’t find anything, so they settled again on the man in front of him, waiting for his next words. “What if I didn’t believe that he fell?”

 

A silence fell over the two of them, weighing on Adam like the hand on his shoulder. He watched as Ronan’s expression darkened. Hypotheticals had been forgotten. “What do you think-”

 

“His mom,” Adam said firmly, interrupting the end of his question. He was dimly aware of the fact that if anyone over heard this conversation, he could be fired. Patient-doctor confidentiality was important, but he wondered if Ronan knew this conversation wasn’t solely about Billy.

 

“Christ,” Ronan muttered, removing his hand from Adam’s shoulder to scrub at his buzz cut. “Are you sure?”

 

“I know,” Adam snapped, immediately regretting the heat there when Ronan’s hand halted. He was being scrutinised now, he could tell. “I can tell. I’m not wrong about this.”

 

“I believe you.” It was the best thing Ronan could have said, especially when paired with the way he had studied Adam’s face – whatever he had found in it, it had convinced him. “But is that enough? For social services or whatever, without proof-”

 

“It could make matters worse for him, I know. I’ll talk to him, see if he wants to tell me anything, but he wouldn’t even look at me without his mom saying so.”

 

As he spoke through what he would do now, verbalising a plan he hadn’t been able to drag together in his head, it felt like everything was starting to slow down – his heart rate, time, everything. Calmer now, he sank to sit on the stool used to reach the higher shelves. From here, Ronan towered above him, even more so than usual.

 

“I’ll take him for some x-rays,” he decided, thinking aloud. “Often kids who are…” Why was it hard to say the word? “Children who are victims of physical abuse, sometimes there may have been injuries that have healed without medical attention – broken bones that haven’t been set in some cases. It’s a long shot but, an x-ray would show that.”

 

It took a second for Adam to recognise the flare of emotion that flashed across Ronan’s face. When he did, he realised it was because he had never seen Ronan truly angry before. It didn’t stay there for long, whatever he was feeling, he swallowed it down. Adam made a decision.

 

“If I were to get an x-ray,” he said, his voice was just above a whisper but still sounded too loud in the privacy of the closet. “It might look similar.”

 

He knew now, after years in medical school, learning about pain thresholds and scales, that it was more than likely his father had broken some of his ribs years ago. A few fingers too one time. They had healed on their own, but he remembered the agony of it at the time.

 

Ronan was quiet for almost too long, still hovering above Adam. He was careful not to watch for his reaction, eyes settled firmly on the door. When Ronan spoke, his voice was clipped, controlled. “Your mom?”

 

Adam shook his head. “My father. Mean drunk.”

 

Now Ronan didn’t give him a chance to avoid looking at him, as he sunk to squat in front of him, inserting himself into his line of vision. “Hey,” he said, shortly, making sure he had Adam’s attention before he continued. “No one would judge you for wanting off his case. Someone else can make sure he’s safe.”

 

“I would,” Adam admitted. “I’d judge me. I’ve worked and worked to get away from feeling like a scared kid thinking about him – I should be able to help this kid. I shouldn’t be hiding in a supply closet.” He pushed one of the carts, suddenly frustrated.

 

“You’re not hiding. You don’t hide, I’ve seen it. You face every problem I’ve seen thrown at you head on, me included in that. You’re just taking a moment, and whatever you decide to do after that will be alright.”

 

Ronan’s eyes were trained on him, both of his hands resting on his knees, but twitching as if they wanted to move somewhere. The most comforting thing about Ronan’s reassurance was that it lacked anything remotely close to pity. Everything was said so simply, not laced with the patronising kind of sympathy he had always expected.

 

“I need to see this through,” Adam decided. “Make sure it doesn’t get swept under the rug.”

 

“Is that what you would have wanted?” Ronan sounded hesitant to ask, clearly worried about overstepping.

 

“More than anything? I just wanted someone to pay attention. To take notice and say this isn’t okay.”

 

“Well,” Ronan got to his feet, fishing out his phone as he did so, tapping at it a couple of times. “You know what you’re going to do then.”

 

“I guess I do.”

 

“Here.” Ronan handed him his phone, open at a new contact labelled ‘PARRISH’. “I’m around all day, swap numbers and if you need anything – just text me, okay?”

 

Adam nodded, typing in his number and passing it back to Ronan, who pocketed it and then reached out to help Adam up. He took his hand and was hauled to his feet, but didn’t let go immediately. Ronan’s grip was firm, gave Adam’s hand a punctuate squeeze – suddenly Adam was reminded of being beside Ronan’s bedside when he was a patient, promising him he would watch over him. He had held his hand just like this, and now Ronan was the one offering the reassurance. It was working.

 

“I best get back,” Adam muttered, checking his watch and smoothing out where his scrubs had wrinkled as he sat down.

 

“Lives to save, and all that jazz,” Ronan nodded.

 

 There was a moment where neither said anything, but watched each other, waiting for the other to speak or leave or do something first. He didn’t know what Ronan was thinking, all he could hope was that he didn’t see him any differently now.

 

Adam moved first, opening the door to the outside world and checking to see if the coast was clear before leaving. He paused, though, before he left Ronan alone, mustering as much sincerity as he could before it leaked into anything more vulnerable. “Thanks.”

 

“Anytime, Parrish.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Adam got back down to the emergency room, Blue was waiting for him. She told him Henry had gone with Billy and his mom to get the scan, that they hadn’t been alone for a second and that she really had to go now. He thanked her and wished her luck on her surgery – he could see the excitement glinting in her dark eyes, even if it was marred with concern for him, so he assured her that he was fine. Then he got to work.

 

First he informed Gansey, who was very grave about the whole matter. Part of Adam had expected him to be more doubtful – after it wasn’t unlikely someone else would have missed the warning signs Adam knew too well – but Gansey had immediately gotten to informing social services. Meanwhile Adam took Billy to get his x-ray, telling his mom that unfortunately, due to the radiation, she wouldn’t be able to accompany him. His hunch with the x-ray didn’t check out, but there was no part of him that was disappointed – if this was the first time Billy was ever seriously hurt, all he felt was thanks.

 

Adam spoke to him, asked if he there was anything he wanted to tell him about what had happened, and was unsurprised when the kid stayed silent. What did surprise him, however, was Billy asking him to stay when social services arrived. After one of their workers explained their concerns, and that there were things they could do to help, Billy eventually admitted that, no, he hadn’t really fallen on his own.

 

From there things seemed to move quickly, Adam stayed with Billy, out of the way of whatever was happening with his mother elsewhere. He felt torn, knowing that now Billy would probably enter foster care, something he himself had desperately wanted to avoid, but in this scenario he saw no other choice. In perhaps an unprofessional manner, he had given Billy his work number and told him that if he ever felt unsafe again, there was someone he could call. With the way he clutched the slip of paper, Adam thought it might have helped ease both of their minds.

 

***

 

“That was a good catch there,” Gansey told him, as they walked up the stairs towards Matthew’s room together. “I know I’ve said it before, but you continue to impress me.”

 

“Thank you,” Adam murmured, partially because he still didn’t particularly know how to handle praise, especially when Gansey gave it to him so freely, but also because the day’s events had left him too drained to muster more of a response.

 

To his relief, their arrival to Matthew’s floor ended that particular conversation, as Blue was exiting his room and striding towards them. As she moved, she tugged her scrub cap from her head, revealing her impossible hair. She was wearing a gigantic smile.

 

“So?” Adam asked, when she bounded up to them. “How was it?”

 

“It was – just amazing. I totally made a great impression, the attending was so impressed she let me drill in a few of the screws for the plate. It was such a rush.”

 

“You’ve definitely got that post-surgery glow about you,” Adam remarked. From the warm look on Gansey’s face, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

 

She turned to their resident. “Thank you, for swinging that for me. I would’ve found some way to get in with the ortho lot, but this head start was really helpful.”

 

For once, she spoke to Gansey with no hint of sarcasm or snark. It may have gone straight to his head, considering the very next thing he said was: “Do you want to have dinner tonight?”

 

Apparently, he had taken himself by surprise too, judging by the way his eyes widened, as if he didn’t believe he had just asked that. Adam wanted to fade into the wall he was standing beside.

 

“Actually, I was planning on changing into my pyjamas, sitting on the couch and eating enough Thai food to feed a small army,” Blue said, watching as Gansey’s face fell. He recovered quickly though, already giving an understanding nod. “You can join me though. If you want.”

 

Gansey’s smile was a soft thing. “I do like Thai.”

 

Adam wanted to mime gagging, pay back for Blue and Henry’s interruption during his coffee conversation with Ronan that morning, but his phone buzzed. Apparently, now all he had to do was think of the devil.

 

_omw to mattys room if ur free_

 

He watched as the three dots appeared again and as his next message appeared.

 

_hope it went okay_

 

“Why are you smiling at your phone?” He thanked God for his height advantage on Blue when she made a grab for the device, and cursed him for her astuteness at the same time.

 

“I’m not,” he said, trying to wipe any trace of the offending expression from his face, typing a quick reply to say they were already there. “It was just Ronan, he’s on his way here.”

 

“Ronan texted you?” Gansey asked. “I can hardly get the man to pick up the phone, let alone text me first.”

 

“Oh really?” Blue looked delighted at this information. “Sounds like I was right this morning when I said someone had a cr-”

 

Adam pinched her arm, because Ronan was stepping out of the elevator. He nodded when their eyes met and Adam could tell that the fireman was searching for some clues as to how he was feeling now, so he nodded in return.

 

***

 

After Blue left them to go change out, Gansey, Ronan and Adam spent some time in Matthew’s room, as he began to gain more coherence while the anaesthesia wore off. He seemed cheery, if albeit a bit dopey, but Adam could see the tension seeping out of Ronan now that his brother was on the mend. By the time they left, he held himself even taller, as if the weight on his shoulders had been a literal thing.

 

Gansey went to finish some paperwork before he left for the evening, leaving Adam alone in Ronan’s company, slowly making their way towards the elevator. For a while, neither said anything, Ronan watching his boots, thumbs hooked in his front jean pockets. Adam pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive.

 

When it did, and they entered, only then did Ronan break the silence.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

Adam sighed. “As best it could, really.”

 

“You handled it well.” He waited to hear the _all things considered_ tacked onto the end, but it didn’t come. “Are you okay?”

 

He resisted the urge to sigh again and instead considered the question. Something about Ronan always incited honesty, stirred it from his depths when for anyone else he could brush off their concern. He watched the numbers on the elevator tick towards the ground floor.

 

“I’m just tired,” he said. “Today was hard. Yesterday was maybe worse. I knew what I was signing up for with this job, it was always going to be tough. But I know good stuff happens here too. It just feels like I rarely get to see it.”

 

At that moment the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. No one made to enter and neither moved to leave. Ronan pressed a button and they closed again, began travelling upwards. “I wanna show you something.”

 

Adam didn’t protest nor question, merely waited and followed Ronan when they arrived on the right floor. He took a left and stood outside the door – it needed a pass key to open.

 

“The maternity ward?” Adam raised an eyebrow but Ronan just shrugged. He opened the door anyway and let Ronan take the lead.

 

“I was bored waiting for Matty, just found this place while walking around.”

 

“You’re really not allowed to be up here,” Adam pointed out, though he didn’t particularly care. “How did you even get in?”

 

“I just followed a nurse. You can get in anywhere if you just act like its where you’re supposed to be.” He considered this, taking in Ronan’s roguish appearance, leather jacket and ripped jeans.

 

“You could have stolen a baby.”

 

“I’ve got Matty and Noah and Gansey, I do enough babysitting.”

 

“I’m very sure Gansey thinks he babysits you.”

 

Ronan snorted at that, but then came to a halt. “Shut up. Look.” He nudged him with his arm, Adam felt the hair on his bare arm stand up.

 

For a moment, Adam was concerned that Ronan wanted to show him the miracle of life. He was a doctor, he had seen women giving birth, and while it was something incredible, it was not something he really wanted to see right now. Instead, Ronan directed his gaze to the window of the nursery.

 

Inside, two rows of bassinets lined the room, most containing a swaddled baby. Their faces were scrunched up still, eyes closed and honestly, not as cute as Adam was expecting.

 

“Huh,” he said. “Noah was right.”

 

“Doubtful. About what?”

 

“You are a big softie, really.” He smirked, anticipating the elbow to his side and not caring. It was nowhere near hard enough to hurt and when Ronan didn’t step away afterwards, it was no longer a rebuke, just contact.

 

“Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan’s ears were turning pink again. It made Adam's smirk shift into a grin, a laugh bubble up in his throat but not quite escape. “Just thought you might wanna see some of the good.”

 

Before Adam could reply, he was distracted by the sound of sniffling. His eyes found the source – a man, presumably a new dad, standing by the window. Despite the tears he was fighting, the red rims of his eyes spoke of a losing battle, he was wearing the biggest smile. His gaze was trained on one of the babies as he shook his head, almost laughing to himself, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. He looked like he had been given a miracle.

 

It occurred to Adam, that this baby was already loved. Presumably that it would be as it grew up. That the father would remember this day for the rest of his life and probably look back at it fondly. A younger Adam might have been bitter – he was this small once upon a time and doubted his dad had ever looked at him like that. But for today, it was the good he had wanted to see.

 

“Thank you,” he said to Ronan, voice hushed as to not disturb the father’s moment.

 

“Don’t mention it.” Ronan angled his body away from the window and more towards Adam. There was a paused before he spoke again, eyes on the linoleum while he worked out what he wanted to say. “Do you wanna go get something to eat?”

 

“Yeah, I’m starving. Think Blue mentioned something about Thai food?” The idea of food had Adam’s stomach whining, having been ignored for so long. He turned on his heel and began to leave, hearing Ronan sigh as he followed him.

 

“Or, we could grab something.” Ronan stopped walking. He looked at Adam, eyes imploring. “Just us. Unless you don’t want to. I won’t be offended.”

 

“Oh.” He was _so_ stupid. “No. No, I mean yes. I want to.”

 

There was his favourite smile, the hint of a dimple in Ronan’s cheek doing things to Adam’s chest. “Good. Because I would’ve been offended, I was just trying to be nice.”

 

“I thought being an asshole was ‘kinda your shtick?’” He threw up finger air quotes, punctuating each word.

 

“What can I say, Parrish? I’ve been testing new material.” There was a pun there, somewhere, about boyfriend-material, that Adam made extra sure his temperamental brain to mouth filter avoided.

 

“Right, let’s get out of here,” Adam tugged on Ronan’s t-shirt to get them moving, letting his fingers trail perhaps longer than they should have as he released it. “Before you really do steal a baby. I can’t believe you got in, where is security?”

 

He ignored the startled turn of the new father’s head at that, and left the ward smiling.

 

***

 

The last date Adam Parrish had gone on was nearly a year ago, at the very start of his internship. There was a nurse starting at the same time as them, by all means a pretty girl named Sarah, and she had taken a shine to Adam. At mostly Henry’s and somewhat Blue’s persistence, he had accepted when she asked him out. It resulted in one very long, very stilted date at a farmer’s market and the two of them agreeing that it would be best for them just to focus on getting settled at the hospital. After that, Adam had put his foot down against his friends’ investment in his love life. There seemed like a hundred things he would rather focus on.

 

He wasn’t sure if this was a date now, out with Ronan. But it was nothing like his date with Sarah, nor any other date he had been on.

 

When they left the maternity ward, Adam changed out and met Ronan in the parking lot. He couldn’t decide on what he wanted to eat and Ronan said he knew the perfect place, so he let himself enjoy the ride to wherever that was in the passenger seat of the BMW, watching the way Ronan flexed his fingers on the steering wheel.

 

The perfect place was, as it turned out, a park. Adam had been here before, he was pretty sure, but never in summer. At this time lights had been strung up from tree to tree, illuminating benches and picnic tables, and what must have been about two dozen food trucks.

 

“This was supposed to make choosing easier?” Adam asked, a little in awe of the selection.

 

“You gotta go with your nose. Eat whatever smells good,” Ronan said, poking him in the back so he would walk on.

 

“But it _all_ smells good,” he whined.

 

After much debating, Adam decided on Greek. While they waited for his gyros, the old woman who seemed to be in charge of the truck grilled them and upon finding out that Adam was a surgeon and that Ronan was a firefighter, insisted on them taking a fat cup of salted olives and a slice of baklava with them. Ronan had driven there with a craving for pizza in mind and surprised Adam when he seemed to know the guy at the truck. Apparently he must have been a regular, considering the fist-bump greeting and the way no order was taken but he knew what Ronan wanted.

 

“Tell me something about you,” Ronan said, once they had found a picnic bench for the two of them. It was just starting to get dark, the lights in the trees casting warm spots between the shadows. “Feel like you basically know me inside out, compared to what I know about you.”

 

“Hardly.” Adam popped an olive in his mouth, taking a moment to wipe the salt from his lips with his tongue. He didn’t miss the way Ronan’s eyes darted down to watch and then away again. “Although, I guess I do, literally. I’ve seen your brain.”

 

“Fuck. That’s so damn weird.” He seemed torn between fascination and disgust, and it made his eyebrows scrunch together, relax and then pinch again. “Shit. What was it like?”

 

“Pink,” Adam laughed. “Brain is actually a different consistency than most people expect – not so much rubbery but kinda like jello-”

 

He stopped, because Ronan was pretending to gag. Or maybe he was really gagging. “Jesus, forget I asked, I’m eating.” He took a huge bite, as if to reiterate that, and then spoke again. “But really, tell me something I don’t know about you.”

 

Adam propped his elbow on the table, and the rested his head on his hand. “Help me out. What do you know about me?”

 

“You’re a doctor, so you’re stupid smart. But you can’t be that smart because all I’ve ever really seen you eat before tonight is peanut butter sandwiches. You’re really good at operation. Gansey thinks the sun shines out of your ass, so I’m guessing you’re good at real operation too. Your best friend is another doctor named Blue. You have good taste in cars ‘cause I know you love mine.”

 

He had rarely heard Ronan talk for that long before and the fact he was doing so about him made Adam bite his lip, in an attempt to quell his smile. He knew that Ronan also knew he liked men and that his father had not been a good person, but appreciated that he kept it light. He decided to return the favour.

 

“I do love yours. I was a mechanic, for a long time actually. Needed the money in high school and college but I loved the work too. If I hadn’t become a surgeon I probably would have gone into engineering. I like working with my hands, I guess.”

 

For some reason, that made Ronan laugh lightly, shaking his head as he did so. “That makes sense. So does that mean you’re actually like a genius then? Toss-up between engineering or brain surgery?”

 

“No,” he said, automatically.

 

“What school did you go to?”

 

“Yale.” Even years later, he couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt at being able to say that. Regardless of all the debt he had accumulated. “And then John Hopkins for med school.”

 

Ronan tilted his head, shooting him a glare that said _I told you so._ It made Adam duck his head and when he looked up again, when no more had been added to the conversation, he found Ronan still watching him. The _I’m right and you know it_ expression had vanished and he knew why he had always thought of those blue eyes as piercing – it felt as if he was looking straight through Adam.

 

“Tell me something else,” Ronan’s voice was softer than before, low and meant just for Adam.

 

“I’m really glad we did this.” It wasn’t what Ronan had been asking over, but the dimple that appeared suggested he was glad to hear it anyway.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too.”

 

They talked until the park emptied, the food trucks shutting up for the night, though Adam could hardly say he noticed. He was too focused on how when his knee brushed against Ronan’s under the bench, neither of them moved to reclaim their own space. Instead they stayed aligned, knee to calf, feet beside each other, out of sight and out of mind.

 

***

 

Ronan drove him back and Adam found himself quite at home in his passenger seat. Only this time Ronan refrained from turning on his music which left the pair of them in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, not tense but charged. Ronan gripped the steering wheel, his eyes firmly forwards. Adam could practically see the conversation he was having with himself from the way his expression shifted, minute changes to his brow set, his jaw.

 

They pulled up in front of the house, Adam noticing that despite the late hour Gansey’s bright orange car was still parked outside. He looked over at Ronan, who was apparently looking at anywhere but Adam, and found he wasn’t in a position to judge. To go inside now, he would have to tear himself out of the car.

 

“This was fun,” he said. It had been so long since either spoke that the words felt bare.

 

“Yeah,” Ronan agreed. “We should do it again sometime.”

 

“I’d like that.” He watched as Ronan nodded and realised that was probably all the response he was going to get. “I should get going then. I’ll see you around, Lynch.”

 

No part of him wanted to exit the car, but he didn’t want to outstay his welcome. Ronan seemed restless and pensive all of a sudden and he didn’t want to intrude, so he opened the car door and slipped out into the night, summer air still warm on his bare arms.

 

He was nearly at the door when he heard the BMW’s driver’s door open. “Parrish, wait up.”

 

Ronan was jogging towards him, restless energy had changed into something more wild. There was a determined glint in his eye when he reached him. “Sometime soon,” he said. “We should do that again sometime, _soon_. I don’t want to go months without seeing you again.”

 

His face was serious, but there was a hopeful bubble in Adam’s chest that made his lips twitch. “Are you asking me out?”

 

Ronan gave him a pained look. “I thought I already did that. Jesus, I’d been trying to all day.”

 

Adam thought of the coffee and Blue and Henry’s interruption. He grinned. “Sorry, you’ve got to use the words or it doesn’t count.”

 

He received an eye roll for his trouble, but when Ronan was done his face softened, looking boyish and earnest.

 

“Go out with me,” he said.

 

And he couldn’t help it – Adam kissed him.

 

In the doorway of his house, in the glow of the porch light, in the humid August air. He stepped forwards as the words just left his mouth, his hands resting on Ronan’s chest, solid beneath his fingers. When he pressed their lips together, he knew he had caught the other man off guard. He pulled away, or tried to, to check he hadn’t overstepped and Ronan followed him, capturing him in another, fiercer kiss.

 

Ronan kissed him like he had been waiting for this. Maybe he had. It was only then Adam realised he had been too, revelling in the feeling of Ronan’s hands played across the dip of his back. The soft pin pricks of his buzz cut when his own hands began to roam.

 

They parted, sharing heavy breaths between them. “That’s a yes, by the way.”

 

“Gathered that,” Ronan murmured. “I can’t do surgeon flirting. I can’t get you a quadratic biopsy or whatever.”

 

“Quadruple bypass,” he laughed, forehead resting against Ronan’s. That conversation with Gansey had only been yesterday, he realised.

 

“That either.” Ronan surprised him, by taking one of his hands that had been resting on his shoulder, holding it in his own before pressing a tender kiss to it, eye lashes fluttering as he did so. Did he even know how he was affecting Adam right now?  
 

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for you kissing me again, then.” He sighed, like that wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. Adam doubted he could spell his own name right now, let alone think about surgery.

 

“That, I can do.” And he seemed all to happy to.

 

They kissed for probably too long. Nowhere near long enough, Adam thought. Eventually, though it pained him, Adam admitted he really did have to go and Ronan left with the promise to call him.

 

He entered his house and let the door shut behind him, otherwise he knew he would watch Ronan walk to his car and speed away. He pressed his back against it and thought that he couldn’t remember ever having felt like this. Which was ridiculous, Ronan had been a patient, and then they had gone months without seeing each other, and over the course of two days? Adam knew he was gone. The idea was as scary as it was thrilling.

 

His eyes shifted to the lounge to see Blue and Gansey watching him. Seeing Gansey in sweats and a t-shirt was an odd experience, he was used to Blue in her pyjama’s. On the TV there was a paused recording of a surgery – a fasciotomy, if he was seeing right - that they had been lying on the couch to watch. But now they had swivelled nearly all the way around to stare at him. It felt like being caught by mom and dad.

 

“Hear any of that?” He realised now he may have been looking a bit dishevelled.

 

“Yes,” Blue’s face way so smug he was tempted to throw something at it. The only thing within reach was an ornamental horse sculpture that rested on their entry way table. He didn’t think Henry’s aunt would appreciate it being broken.

 

“Great.”

 

“Don’t worry, Adam. After he asked you out we turned the procedure back on, to drown out, well-”

 

“You two acting like horny teenagers,” Blue supplied.

 

“Right. Well, thanks for that.” Adam found that he really couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

He dragged himself to bed, set his alarm for the next morning, and tried to ignore the way he could still feel Ronan’s lips against his. When he couldn't, he let himself remember it over and over and over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So unfortunately I don't think there'll be a chapter next week, as I have an exam soon and I need to focus on that, and I've come to the end of my pre-written chapters. Friday afterwards though, I'll be here with the penultimate! thank you so much for reading, any comments really do make my day so thank you to anyone who took the time for that - ily all 
> 
> chapter title is from stolen - dashboard confessional 
> 
> \- kat


	5. figured out i'm missing you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan doesn't call after their kiss. Adam is definitely not panicking when a certain fireman arrives at the hospital - on duty and in the middle of a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Not going to go into too much about where I've been or what's going on with this story here because half the page will be notes, but you can read more about that on my tumblr (sweater-sasquatch i can't get the link to work I'm sorry) 
> 
> Important things to note is that I'm not abandoning this story and that I really appreciate all the support it's gotten while I've been mia, I will reply to comments asap because they mean a lot to me. Really nervous about posting this chapter because it's been a while and I'm not certain my writing is up to scratch but it's been long enough
> 
> RIGHT to the story. This chapter is longer because there's a lot of medical stuff in the beginning. As always, those bits are under a line instead of the ***, and for this one I'll put a summary of what you've missed in the end notes if you decide not to read.
> 
> warnings for this chapter - trauma following an explosion, a character places a hand in an open wound in order to stop bleeding, surgery to fix that takes place

The kitchen counter was cool on Adam’s forehead. He was slumped on his stool, resting his head against the surface, the smell of Henry’s cooking still managing to waft under his nose, despite the cocoon he had made with his arms.

 

“You want any of this?” His friend asked.

 

He made a noise he hoped Henry would discern as a no – he most certainly did not want any. Henry was a good friend, on his way to being a great surgeon, had unquestionable hands and absolutely no cooking skills. Adam wasn’t even sure what it was he was making, he could smell cheese and something tangy.

 

“How long has it been? Since he said he’d call?” Henry turned off the burner, Adam could hear the clink of cutlery as he plated up his disaster.

 

“About a week.”

 

Six days. Six days since what he had thought was a near perfect, if technically unofficial, date and Ronan’s promise to call him. Adam recalled the disappointment he felt when Matthew was discharged and he found Declan signing papers, instead of his Lynch brother. In those six, somehow excruciatingly long, days, he hadn’t heard a word from the fireman. It was maddening.

 

“And how much longer are you gonna sulk for?”

 

Adam sat up. This was a familiar conversation. “I’m not sulking. This isn’t sulking, I’m just tired – we just got off a twelve hour shift. I’m allowed to be tired.”

 

Henry planted himself on the stool beside Adam. “You’re sulking. The first stage is acceptance. Then you can move on. Or y’know – call him.”

 

He ignored the way his stomach flipped at ‘move on’, suddenly aware that he couldn’t bear the idea and instead focused on Henry’s other absurd suggestion. “I can’t call him. He said he would call and he hasn’t, so he doesn’t want to talk.”

 

Even now that the dish was visible, Adam still wasn’t able to tell what it was as Henry stabbed at it, popping some in his mouth. He spoke around his mouthful. “Adam, my dude. My bud. You have a big brain, I implore you to use it – hey, where are you going?”

 

“To see if Blue has any better advice than ‘call him’.” He slid away from the counter to approach her room.

 

“She doesn’t!” Henry called as he left. “Because I’m right!”

 

Adam knocked three times on Blue’s door before entering anyway, because this was what they did. When one had a problem or a tough day or even just wanted to share a joke or good news, there was always a space in the other’s bed waiting for them. Impromptu sleepovers weren’t exactly a regular occurrence, but common enough to start rumours during their time in medical school. Little did their peers know all that occurred was a large consumption of either ice cream or tequila, watching of stupid animal videos and occasionally some crying.

 

He barely glanced at his friend as he entered, dropping down beside her on the bed, hiding his face in a pillow.

 

“Uh oh,” Blue said. “Looks like Adam is having a crisis – I better go.”

 

At that Adam lifted his head and saw the phone Blue had pressed to her ear. “Oh – sorry. Is it Maura? Is Persephone there?”

 

Maybe one of the Fox Way women would be able to help him out, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t given him advice before - but Blue hesitated. “No. No, it’s not them.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

 

Blue rolled her eyes and took the phone away from her ear, holding it as though to cover the receiver, as though it was an old corded one and not a smart phone. “It’s Gansey.”

 

“Gansey?” Adam felt himself beginning to smirk. “We only left the hospital a couple of hours ago.”

 

The glare Blue shot him would have been scary, if not for the slight flush to her cheeks. She ignored him and uncovered the phone. “Gansey, I’m gonna go-”

 

“Wait, don’t hang up,” Adam said, sitting upright. “I want to – can I talk to him?”

 

Despite the slight narrowing of her eyes, Blue pressed a button. She knew him well enough to know this had nothing to do with embarrassing her. “I’ve put you on speaker phone, Adam says he wants to talk to you.”

 

“Adam?” He could hear the frown in Gansey’s voice, could picture the pinch of skin between his brows. “Blue said she thought you were having a crisis, is everything alright?”

 

Adam shuffled around so he could sit back against the bed’s headboard. He grabbed the pillow he had face-planted and instead brought it to his chest. “Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. It’s just – have you spoken to Ronan at all?”

 

There was a pause before Gansey spoke again, his words measured. “I have, earlier today.”

 

“Oh, well, I haven’t, that’s all.” He ignored the hurt he could feel bubbling up inside him, somewhere beneath his ribs.

 

 _I don’t want to go months without seeing you again._ That’s what Ronan had said. So where was he? What had changed his mind?

 

“I see,” Gansey said. Adam hated that he probably did see, with much more clarity that Adam was capable of in this situation.

 

“Has he said anything to you? About us, I mean.” He bit his lip, some part of him was humiliated to ask this. He knew he was so obviously, embarrassingly gone over Ronan Lynch.

 

“He hasn’t, no. I also haven’t asked – I wasn’t sure if it would be unprofessional.” His senior resident paused, Adam could practically see him dragging a thumb over his lip. “He has been in an even more foul mood than usual though, might I say.”

 

That was something at least. Adam could feel Blue’s eyes on him but he didn’t want to meet them. Instead he groaned, lifting the pillow to his face to muffle it. “I don’t get it.”

 

Somehow, despite the pillow, Gansey had heard him. “I’m certain it’s nothing you’ve done. Ronan is just – he’s not always great at expressing his feelings. If he’s disappeared, it’s possible that he’s trying to work out how to say something.”

 

“I wish he’d just talk it out with me, if that’s the case.”

 

“Perhaps you should tell him that’s something you would be willing to do. Talk it out, that is.”

 

Adam sighed, jamming his hands through his hair. “I should call him, shouldn’t I?”

 

“Duh,” Blue said, very helpfully. He couldn’t be angry when he laid back down and she began stroking his hair, soothing down the mess he had just made.

 

“Not a word to Cheng, understood?”

 

***

 

Adam had gone to bed and risen the next morning with the plan to call Ronan formulating in his head. He wouldn’t message beforehand, his last text hadn’t been responded to. Instead he would call around when he knew Ronan had lunch, unless of course there was a fire somewhere that needed attending to.

 

 Nerves surrounding the call bothered him all through breakfast, and rounds, and his first hour on duty in the pit. He would see if Ronan was okay and then ask why he hadn’t heard from him. It was simple, he told himself. Easy, no big deal.

 

As fate would have it, he didn’t need to wait for lunch.

 

Working in the pit was always hit or miss. Some days were dead, he didn’t so much as touch a suture kit, let alone a scalpel. Some days it would be a wasteland until that first phone call and then there would be a never ending stream of injuries and accidents, violently ill patients and mystery cases. Nothing happened at all or everything happened at once.

 

Adam could hear the sirens in the distance as he and Henry waited by the emergency room, taking turns to tie the backs on each of their yellow trauma aprons. There had been a call not too long ago, two kids caught in some kind of explosion were on their way in and now Henry and Adam and others waited to receive the ambulances carrying them.

 

What Adam wasn’t expecting, when the ambulance careened into the bay, was for Noah Czerny to hop out first. He wore a heavy jacket, CABESWATER FIRE written boldly on its back and when he saw Adam something like relief fluttered across his features – it didn’t stay for long though.

 

“Noah,” Adam said, already jogging towards him to meet the vehicle, Henry in tow. “What have you got?”

 

“Fourteen year old male, blunt abdominal trauma and a penetrating injury in his upper thigh. We just pulled him and his brother from a house fire - chemistry experiment gone wrong.”

 

* * *

 

 

As Noah spoke the rest of the crew unloaded the gurney with their patient on it. The kid was conscious, which was always a good sign, his head braced on either side, a blanket over the majority of his body. He was very obviously in shock.

 

“My brother? Where’s my brother? Is he okay – God, this is all my fault. Tell my mom it was my fault, okay? It wasn’t his. I was just trying to teach him some science.”

 

“Wounds are clear, vitals are stable, he’s been in and out of consciousness,” Noah told them, his usually cheerful expression stern. Of course the fire department would have been at the scene, but it was still a shock to Adam to see him in action.

 

“You gotta tell my mom that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Oh my god, she’s gonna be so frickin’ mad.”

 

There was no help in telling the kid he probably had bigger things to be worrying about right now. They moved with the gurney towards the entrance, meeting the head trauma surgeon at the doors, other interns and residents slipping past them to meet the other ambulance pulling up.

 

“She’s not gonna be mad, buddy,” Henry said to their patient, hands gripping the side of the gurney. “Your mom will be here soon, just keep talking to us for now, okay?”

 

Adam was all ready to follow Henry and their superiors in, when Noah tapped him on the shoulder. “I think you should come meet the other rig.”

 

Though he knew Noah likely had good reasoning, had faith that he knew what he was talking about, Adam was reluctant to let the kid go without him. The patient was in great hands but Adam and Cheng had received them, making it likely that one of them would scrub in on whatever surgery he needed. Depending on what the next ambulance held, he may have lucked out.

 

He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, which worked better when he saw Doctor Gray, a field trauma surgeon that had started recently at Cabeswater General, headed for the same ambulance. There were rumours about him, where he had worked previously or even more outrageous ones about before he became a surgeon. Adam couldn’t even recall ever hearing his first name.

 

“Dr. Gray!” Adam waved the man over and gestured to Noah, all of three of them moving at once. “Noah Czerny, firefighter on when they pulled the kids.”

 

“The younger brother’s in there, he got thrown from the blast. He was bleeding out from the abdomen and – well. One of our team, he just stuck his hand in there.”

 

Dr. Gray and Adam exchanged a look of disbelief. And then a further wave of it rolled over Adam as he made the connection. “When you say ‘one of our team’-”

 

“Why is your hand inside him!?” One of other interns crowded around the ambulance exclaimed.

 

“Because he was bleeding a lot – why are you just standing there?”

 

Adam knew that voice. Adam had been imagining when he would next hear that voice for the past six days. Of all the scenarios, he hadn’t imagined one like this.

 

“Take your hand out!” A different intern was climbing up into the back of the ambulance.

 

“You look twelve, find a grown-up to tell me that. Get someone who knows what they’re doing, for Christ’s sake.”

 

Dr. Gray’s look of disbelief turned to horror, and while Adam’s mind had to race to catch up, when he realised why he was sure his face paled to match it.

 

They closed the remaining distance between them and the disaster at a sprint, Dr. Gray barking orders as he did so. “Don’t move your hand! Whatever you do, do not move your hand!”

 

Ronan Lynch looked up, and true to Noah’s word, had his hand inside the abdomen of a ten year old boy. He didn’t flinch upon seeing Adam, the severity of the situation scrapping any awkwardness that may have arisen otherwise. He did, however, search Adam’s face for confirmation. Adam almost felt heat rise to his cheeks, wondering if anyone else realised Ronan was looking to take his word over his attending.

 

“Don’t move your hand,” Adam said, again.

 

“See that?” Ronan glanced at the first set of interns and tilted his head towards the new arrivals. “Grown-ups.”

 

“Can you feel a pulse?” Dr. Gray asked, hopping up into the back of the ambulance, the intern that had moved up there moments ago now scrambling to get out of his way. Ronan nodded. “Parrish – what is he holding?”

 

“The abdominal aorta.” The realisation dawned on his fellow interns. The one who had demanded Ronan remove his hand looked as though he might puke.

 

“Correct. Which means that if he moves his hand, this kid’s a goner. He’ll bleed out before we can get him to an OR,” Dr. Gray was peering over Ronan’s shoulder to assess the situation. “What’s your name?”

 

“Lynch, Ronan Lynch.”

 

Who else, Adam thought? Who else would appear exactly when Adam had finally decided to call him? Who else would thrust their hand into a gaping wound to save a kid’s life? Everything at once, that’s how it was on days like these.

 

“Well Lynch, we’ve got to get him to an OR and you’ve got to keep still. Think you can keep pressure on it while we move the gurney down?”

 

“My hand, arm and shoulder are already numb.” Adam could see the flex in his bicep as he angled his arm, tense to keep as still as possible. It was the wrong time to admire the way his work t-shirt fit him, surely. “But yeah, I think so.”  

 

With the help of the EMTs, the gurney was lowered from the ambulance onto the tarmac. From there, Adam could see Ronan had the good grace to wear surgical gloves, probably while examining the boy before the ambulance arrived, blood had stained the pale skin of his wrist and forearm.

 

“Can we hurry this up?” Ronan locked eyes with Adam. Where someone else might see them as stony and cold, somehow Adam was able to recognise the fear in them, wide and blue. “I’m not killing a kid today.”

 

Suddenly he felt a swell of empathy for the firefighter. He knew how it felt to hold a life in his hands, even just as an intern the moments he had were some of the most intense of his life. Ronan was used to the bit before this, the kid was clear of the fire but not out of the woods.

 

“You’re right,” Adam said, simple and matter of fact. “You’re not. Hop on the side of the gurney, we can get him inside.”

 

From there everything slowed down, though Adam could understand why Ronan was eager for the opposite. The kid was intubated, Adam held the drip bags as Gray guided the gurney very slowly around the hospital. Every maneuverer required patience and precision and Adam could see Ronan growing more and more restless. Sweat beaded on his forehead, the suspenders attached to his uniform slipping down his arm slightly, but it was too risky to readjust it for him right now.

 

“So,” Adam said, almost in a hush, “Gansey and Blue are having late night phone calls now.”

 

For a moment, Ronan looked confused, shaken from whatever worst case scenario his brain had been running. Then he seemed to understand Adam’s attempt at distraction and his gaze softened. There was a thank you there, somewhere in the well of his brows, for knowing what he needed. Or perhaps for not bringing up any other phone calls – or lack thereof.

 

“That’s disturbing. I’m not sure I wanna know what they talk about,” Ronan said.

 

“That’s if there’s much talking involved at all.”

 

“Parrish, that’s fucking gross. Last thing I want to be thinking about, ever. Let alone now.”

 

His attempts at distraction worked and soon enough they had made it to OR 4, the only bump had been the elevator – literally. Everyone surrounding the gurney held their breath as it was dragged over the threshold and into the cramped space. Ronan, still on the side of gurney, muttered something that looked like a prayer.

 

The OR had been prepped, ready for their arrival, and scrub nurses worked to get Ronan as fit to be inside the room as possible, without jarring his arm. He wore a gown, his free arm threaded carefully through it, glove placed over than hand to secure it. When Adam entered, fully scrubbed in, a nurse was just adjusting Ronan’s scrub cap and surgical mask.

 

“Never seen this part before,” Ronan said as Adam came to stand beside him. The fireman’s eyes were firmly on the face of the boy, now sedated and not merely unconscious, and not on where his hand was keeping him alive. “Your gear is so light.”

 

Adam’s mask muffled his breath of laughter. “How heavy is your gear?”

 

“Depends,” Ronan’s eyebrow tilted, Adam could tell that, despite everything, beneath his mask there was a smirk. “Am I carrying my axe?”

 

“Show off,” Adam rolled his eyes, ignoring the way images of Ronan in all his fireman, axe-wielding glory began to seep into his mind - now was not the time.

 

“Let’s fly in that FFP, hang it from the rapid infuser,” Gray ordered, stepping up to the table. “Right, Lynch. I’ve got to get in there and clamp the aorta, then you’ll be good to go.”

 

There was a brief moment when some relief swept over Ronan’s features – then the beeping started.

 

“His BP is dropping,” Adam said, casting a look to the vitals monitor and then back to Ronan, hoping that his calm expression would convey that this was okay – it happened, there was no need to panic, yet.

 

“Okay, well we need to move quickly – scalpel.” Gray held out his hand and once the instrument was placed in it he cut along the entry site, giving them room to move around Ronan’s hand.

 

“Blue towel and retractor please,” Adam said, moving around his attending, knowing well enough by now what he would need. In return he got a nod when Gray looked up from packing to ask for the clamp.

 

He wondered what it was like for Ronan, seeing Adam in his working environment for the first time. Everything was moving quickly as the fireman stayed stock still, exactly as he was supposed to.

 

Adam watched as Gray moved the clamp, tensing as the surgeon frowned. “I can’t access the aorta.”

 

His eyes flicked to the monitor again, the kid’s blood pressure was getting lower with each passing moment.

 

“Lynch,” Gray said. “Take the clamp.”

 

“I-” For once there wasn’t a snarky retort waiting on Ronan’s tongue. He looked at Adam, panic clear in his eyes. “No, no way – this isn’t even my dominant hand.”

 

“You run into fires, you can do this easy. Come on, take the clamp.” Dr. Gray waved the clamp at him. Ronan took it but was still clearly hesitant.

 

Adam didn’t pause to think as he moved around to the other side of the table to stand next to Ronan, but next thing he knew he was at his elbow.

 

The clamp looked like a pair of scissors, that instead of being sharp pinched two flat edges together when shut. “Open and close them, just try it.”

 

At his insistence, Ronan did so, his non-dominate hand proving not to be an issue.

 

“Perfect,” Gray said. “Parrish will guide you in and support the hand. You just need to clamp above where your fingers are.”

 

“Just,” Ronan muttered, opening and closing it a few more times.

 

“Hey,” Adam lay his hand over Ronan’s wrist, layers of their gloves between them but he could still just about feel Ronan’s rapid pulse. “It’s okay, I’ll walk you through this. You got this. You trust me, right?”

 

His eyes left the clamp he had been studying and found Adam’s, a storm with pin prick pupils. “Yeah. I do.”

 

Using the hand he already had on his free arm, Adam guided Ronan’s towards the operating table, and into the surgical site. He held it steady as Ronan found his place, travelling carefully with the clamp towards his other, indisposed hand.

 

“Is it above your fingers?” Adam asked when Ronan paused.

 

“I think so, yeah.”

 

“Can you feel it pulsating?”

 

He was silent for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. “There. I feel it. I think I’ve clamped it.”

 

“Nice job,” Gray said. “You can take your hand out.”

 

Ronan’s eyes widened. “What? You said that if I moved this kid was a goner.”

 

“Yes, but now you’ve clamped it.” Gray gestured towards where Ronan’s hands were.

 

“I don’t know if I’ve done it right, I’m not a doctor, I-”

 

“Lynch,” Adam said this time. “It’ll be okay, just let go.”

 

Ronan looked as if he wanted to argue more, but there were a dozen eyes on him, waiting for him to make the move. He shut his eyes and let go. The room erupted.

 

The moment he pulled his hand away, out of the kid, he was ushered away to the back of the room and all the surgical staff dove into action. Gray took over seamlessly, he ordered suction and Adam held the tool so they could get to work. He was aware of Ronan behind him, not having left yet, probably waiting for feeling to seep back into his arm.

 

“You did it,” Adam called over his shoulder to him. He couldn’t remember having ever been so vocal in an OR, usually he just accepted orders from his superiors.

 

“Thank Christ,” Ronan said, almost with a gasp from his relief.

 

Suddenly Adam was aware of the door to the OR opening, some of the nurses leading Ronan away.

 

“Wait,” he said, unable to look away from what he was doing but grateful to hear the movement stop. “Don’t leave yet, okay? Find Gansey or get a coffee or something, just wait for me.”

 

“Okay,” Ronan said, voice further away than Adam had been expecting. “I’ll wait, Parrish.”

 

With that the scuffle of feet on the pristine OR floor resumed and he knew his fireman was gone. Not for long, hopefully. His hands continued to act, without much prompting from his head, following Gray’s movements exactly as they were supposed to.

 

“Two more units,” Gray called. He glanced up at Adam, in between switching instruments, an eyebrow raised. “So, a fireman, huh?”

 

He had never been more grateful to be wearing a surgical mask and the fact that it covered the colour in his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later they were finished. The boy was fine, would have a long recovery road ahead of him, but would be fine. He had gotten a well-done from Dr. Gray, and an offer to shadow him if he ever felt like trauma surgery was a path he wanted to pursue. He told him he would think about it – he had been pretty sure about following neuro training, but he had enjoyed the pace of that surgery more than he expected.

 

He changed in a rush, aware that it had beem a long time since he asked Ronan to wait. After a quick shower and a fresh set of scrubs, Adam set about finding Ronan, only to find he had a text from the man himself.

_in the cafeteria let me know when ur out and ill get u a coffee_

 

Despite himself, he smiled.

_On my way now._ He replied, taking the stairs down two steps at a time.

Ronan was seated alone in the cafeteria, no food in front of him, but two coffee cups – one seemingly empty. He looked up as Adam approached, watching him with wary eyes. One hand came up to brush the back of his head, but he winced and abandoned the act half way.

 

“Hey,” Adam said, taking the seat opposite him. When Ronan nodded to it, he took the coffee and had a sip.

 

“Hey.” Ronan’s hands were folded on his lap, his legs apart and one knee jiggling, nearly rattling the table. “How’s the kid?”

 

“He’s going to be fine. In a bit of pain but he’s alive.” He paused, considering if Ronan would want to hear it. “Thanks to you, that is. You saved his life today.”

 

“Pft, it was nothing. I’m a natural with a clamp.” Despite his words, the tips of his ears were reddening as he averted his eyes.

 

Silence fell over the two of them, the awkwardness had been skipped over in their life or death situation, but hadn’t been escaped. It was at their table in full force now, present in Ronan’s fidgeting, Adam’s hands tapping against his coffee cup, their eyes not meeting.

 

“You didn’t call.”  Adam said, eventually.

 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He made sure to look at Adam when he said it, head bowed slightly.

 

Adam had expected to feel angry when they discussed the disappearance, but instead he recognised the sickly feeling filling his throat as insecurity. It took him by surprise.

 

“Why?” Adam asked. “Was it – was it something I did? Because if it was-”

 

“No.” Ronan’s voice was firm. He lay a hand on the table, crossing the space between them. “Jesus no, it wasn’t you.”

 

“Then why?”

 

Ronan groaned, loudly, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hands. “I don’t know, I just panicked.”

 

Gently, Adam reached across to pry his hands away from his face. Each of his hands held one of Ronan’s, he brushed his thumb over a knuckle and hoped he hadn’t overstepped. For all he knew, Ronan was about to call whole thing quits – not that there was much to call off. An unofficial date, months of separation and a patient stay. They had only even kissed once. Maybe he was an idiot for getting so attached.

 

But Ronan didn’t pull away. “I panicked because when I left, the first thing I wanted to do after leaving your place was call you. Not even half an hour after last seeing you.”

 

“I wish you had,” Adam interjected, earnest. “I wish _I_ had.”

 

Ronan scoffed. “Yeah, me too now. I just – I know I can come on strong. Not even that, it’s just – I don’t do casual. And that freaks people out. When I’m in, I’m in, y’know? There’s the whole: ‘are we exclusive? Are we still seeing other people? How long before it’s serious?’ bullshit. And that doesn’t work for me because if I’m involved at all then – well for me, that’s pretty damn serious. This isn’t something I do often.”

 

Adam sensed he wasn’t finished, so he waited to say his own piece.

 

“So I didn’t call because I’m serious. And I didn’t want to mess this up or scare you off. Which is so fucking stupid.” Ronan exhaled. Adam wondered if it felt good to get that all off of his chest. “But anyway, today was – it was terrifying. I was shit scared. And then you were there and I thought it would be worse because I had fucked up, but all I could think was ‘thank God.’ I just realised, that it doesn’t matter.”

 

At that, Adam frowned. What didn’t matter?

 

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to be exclusive yet or if you’re still seeing other people, even if I don’t do casual – I’ll stick around. We can date and see where it goes, because I just really don’t want to luck out on this.”

 

Ronan looked incredibly sheepish, as much as six foot something of firefighter could. He had laid it all out for him, something Gansey mentioned was difficult for him, and Adam was so, so grateful.

 

“You been rehearsing that for the past three hours?” He smirked.

 

“Fuck you, Parrish.” Ronan kicked his shin under the table, nowhere near hard enough to hurt. He was biting back a smile.

 

Adam didn’t reply straight away, getting his thoughts in order. He removed a hand from Ronan’s to sip at his coffee and then cleared his throat.

 

“So we don’t do casual, then,” he said with a shrug – casually.

 

“What?” Ronan said, as though he hadn’t heard him right. “I just said-”

 

“That you don’t do casual, but you’d be willing too, yeah. But the thing is I’m not seeing anyone else and I don’t want to. All I could think about this week was when I’d next talk to you again. And honestly, I can’t remember the last time I felt that way about someone.”

 

While he had been speaking, Ronan had sat back in his chair, watching Adam with those eyes. Adam leaned forward to rest on the table. The hand still touching Ronan’s moved, to thread their fingers together.

 

“I think this makes me the one coming on strong now, but there’s nothing casual about how you make me feel.”

 

Ronan stared at him as if he had told him the sky was falling or pigs were flying or something else equally impossible – but there was nothing impossible about it. The way Ronan made him feel was unavoidable, a wave that would hit anyway. Adam was finally happy to let the tide drag him under.

 

“Yeah, Jesus, Parrish. Calm down.” Ronan’s mouth had given up any pretences now, curving upwards into that jagged grin Adam loved. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

 

Suddenly Adam agreed there had never been a truer sentiment. But making out across a cafeteria table was probably frowned upon. “C’mon.”

 

With their interlinked hands, Adam got to his feet and tugged on Ronan to follow and together they wove through patients and doctors alike in the halls of Cabeswater General, grinning like a school kids, up to no good.

 

He lead Ronan to the elevator and pressed the button, both looking at anywhere but each other until the doors had opened and slid to a close again with them inside, alone and safely tucked away from the rest of the world – if just for a moment.

 

Adam allowed himself a moment to rake his eyes over Ronan, still in his uniform, and appreciate just how well it fit him. Ronan tilted his head as he watched Adam watching him, and God, Adam wished scrubs did something more for his appearance. There was no way to compete. But Ronan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, his bottom one catching on his teeth as he withdrew it.

 

Then Adam backed him up against the side of the elevator. Ronan’s hands had been reaching for him before they even hit the wall, now they traced a path from his hips, up his sides to brush against his ribs, over his chest and neck to cradle the back of his head. Adam gripped a suspender strap and pulled him down, finally connecting their lips.

 

He thought it would feel like drowning in Ronan. Instead it felt like coming up for fresh air. He hadn’t even realised his lungs had been aching, but now he was breathing Ronan in.

 

They kissed like they had something to lose. Before, the kiss on the door step of his home, they had struggled to kiss through the smiles on their faces. Now, Adam felt as equally joyous, but his mouth was pliant on Ronan’s, allowing for sweeps of tongue, clashing of teeth.

 

Too soon, the elevated dinged. Adam could feel the curse Ronan muttered against his mouth.

 

They parted, adjusted themselves and while they looked undeniably dishevelled when the doors open, they weren’t caught in anything incriminating. Not yet at least.

 

He lead them down a hallway and then another, until they were in front of the room Adam had been looking for.

 

“Wait here, one second.” Adam pressed a kiss below Ronan’s ear and revelled in the sigh it caused.

 

He opened the door and scanned the on-call room, disappointment flooding through him at the sight of one bundled up sleeping doctor on an upper bunk – until he saw who it was.

 

“Cheng,” he said, stepping into the room to shake him. “Cheng, wake up.”

 

“Adam?” His roommate murmured, sitting up.

 

“Why are you in here? You’re not even on call, we’re both on ten hours today, you don’t need to be sleeping.”

 

“I got an extended break after we patched the chemistry kid’s leg – he was right, y’know. His mom _was_ pissed. I’d have thought that, considering he was okay and it could have been a lot worse, that she-”

 

“Henry, I don’t care,” Adam snapped without meaning to. “Sorry. But if you get out of here and find somewhere else to sleep, I’ll do dishes for the rest of the week.”

 

Henry frowned. “You already do the dishes anyway. Why do you want me to go so bad? There are plenty of bunks.”

 

He was struggling to think of objections when there was a cough from the door way. Ronan had obviously grown impatient and had wanted to see what was taking Adam so long. Adam desperately tried to avoid Henry’s gleeful expression.

 

“Lynch! Long-time no see! Hey, by any chance did he call you? Because if he did, I think _somebody_ owes me an apology.”

 

“Cheng, I will pay you to shut up and leave,” Adam was close to begging.

 

“No payment needed, bud.” Henry, by the grace of God, swung his legs over the side of the bunk and hopped down. “It’s about time you got laid.” He patted him on the shoulder, turning as he left the room to give him a wink.

 

“He’s gonna be a nightmare,” Ronan said, once they were alone.

 

“I know,” Adam agreed. He stepped around Ronan to shut the on-call room door, flipping the lock. “I really don’t care.”

 

And really, Adam was well within his rights to kiss the smirk off of Ronan’s face. They met in the centre of the room, Ronan’s hands finding his, intertwining their fingers – gripping tighter when Adam broke the hungry kiss to brush his lips across his neck. He nipped lightly at the point beneath his Adam’s apple and then soothed it with his tongue.

 

“Fuck,” Ronan breathed.

 

“That’s the idea, yeah.” Adam took the opportunity to lead him backwards, towards one of the bunks. He guided Ronan down to sit on it, hand on the back of his head so the ridiculously tall man wouldn’t hit it on the upper one. Then climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs.

 

Ronan’s hands settled on his hips, fingers digging deliciously into the bone there when Adam surged to kiss him again. Once again Adam’s hands found the soft spray of buzzed hair above Ronan’s neck and pulled him closer, impossibly closer.

 

Everything in that moment was Ronan, everything that wasn’t faded away. The world outside the on-call room seemed like a distant thing when all Adam could focus on was trying to slide Ronan’s suspenders down in order to remove his shirt and the open mouth kisses Ronan was pressing to his collar bones. When he succeed he pulled away to lift the shirt over Ronan’s head, the fireman helpfully raised his arms so the offending article could be shucked, then he returned the favour.

 

Hands on wide expanses of skin and muscle, Adam was dizzy with it. Coherent enough to notice the way the tattoo on his back wrapped around onto the edges of his neck and shoulders. Adam wanted a proper look but that would require turning Ronan around, and that would mean no longer sitting in his lap, Ronan no longer running his hands up and down his thighs.

 

He had another tattoo, however, this one on his left peck – just above his heart. Two plain lines, intersecting to make a cross no bigger than half of Adam’s pinky. Without thinking, Adam bowed to press a kiss to it, feeling the hitch in Ronan’s breath.

 

“Adam.” His name was punctuated with a squeeze to his thighs. Adam rolled his hips and ground them together with Ronan’s. Ronan groaned, letting his eyes flutter shut, so he did it again and following sound was just as sweet. He reconnected their lips once more, sharing noises and breaths. His pager went off.

 

The beep startled the pair of them, Adam jolting upright and slamming his head against the upper bunk in the process. “Fuck!”

 

“Jesus Christ, Parrish, careful,” Ronan would have sounded more concerned if it wasn’t obvious he was biting back a laugh. His hand still came up to rest against where Adam had hit, gentle soothing fingers rubbing a circle.

 

Adam grabbed at his pager – his fucking, annoying, cockblocking pager – and sighed. “Dr. Gray wants me to talk to the kids’ mom, now.”

 

“You should put your shirt on first,” Ronan suggested, pointing the vague direction of where it had been flung. The heaving of his chest betrayed his attempt at sounding collected.

 

“No, I thought I’d parade through paediatrics without it,” Adam bit, sarcasm dripping. He couldn’t help feeling grumpy as he clambered off of Ronan, doing his best to subtly adjust his scrub pants.

 

“I’m sure you’ve already got all the single moms lusting over you up there – ‘oh, hold my baby, Dr. Parrish, now hold me too.’” He pitched his voice upwards, cooing in an extraordinarily silly way, Adam couldn’t stop himself from snorting. Ronan grinned at him lazily, not having moved from the lower bunk.

 

He found his shirt and shrugged it on, finding his name tag had come unattached and was halfway across the room. He could feel Ronan’s eyes on him while he went about making himself presentable, watching him rush fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten it, and eventually picking up Ronan’s discarded shirt.

 

“Please put this on or I’ll never leave,” Adam said, pressing it to his chest.

 

“That’s not a good argument,” Ronan pointed out but still took it, tugging it on over his head. “I should be getting back to the station anyway.”

 

“Are you free tonight?”

 

“For more of that, or?” Ronan asked, ducking out from the bunk to stand in front of him.

 

“Yeah. Or for anything else, quite frankly.” Adam took it upon himself to put Ronan’s uniform suspenders back in place.

 

“Anything?” He teased.

 

“Shut up, I’m serious. I don’t care what we do, I just want to see you.”

 

A smart retort died on Ronan’s tongue and instead the look he gave him was unbearably soft. “I want to see you too. Text me when your shift ends and I’ll come over.”

 

“Good.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Ronan’s lips, lest he get distracted again. “Now we really gotta go.”

 

Adam didn’t have the chance to see Ronan out, the paediatrics ward in the opposite direction, but instead he had the thought of seeing him again in a few hours to see him through the end of his shift.

 

***

 

After explaining the procedure her younger child had undergone, Adam had left the chemistry kids’ mom with a nurse who would take her to see him. He wandered up from the paediatrics wards towards the ORs in hopes of catching Gansey. If he was lucky his senior resident would pull him from working on the pit and give him something more interesting to do.

 

He wasn’t by the scrub nurse’s station – but Blue was. She was standing by the operating board, the one that listed all the surgeries that would be taking place that day, who would be leading and the residents assisting. Blue’s arms were crossed tight across her chest as she studied it, a frown on her face.

 

“Hey,”  he said. She didn’t look up as he stood next to her, just hummed a hello.

 

“Tell me what you see,” she unfolded one arm to point at the board. “Who’s in surgery, right now?”

 

Adam did as she asked, examining the board as she had. He found the right time slot and followed it down.

 

“Gansey’s in OR two, assisting on a…” He frowned. “An appendectomy?”

 

“Yeah,” Blue turned to face him then.

 

“Gansey can do an appendectomy with his eyes closed – even if he’s on a neuro path now, he had the first solo surgery in his year.”

 

“That’s not all,” Blue said, waving for him to follow her as she slipped behind a desk at the nurse’s station. She logged into a computer and pulled up a file. “The hospital notes all surgeries, who does them, ya-da ya-da ya-da - _obviously_. We have records, all of us do and anyone on the surgical program can access them. I was looking at how many hours I had logged when I stumbled across Gansey’s.”

 

She beckoned him forwards to look at what was on the screen, a list of surgeries and times and hours and Gansey’s name on all of them, but he didn’t feel like waiting to make the connection. “What am I looking at here, exactly?”

 

Blue sighed and pointed at the screen. “This is Lewis O’Connor’s surgery.”

 

She didn’t need to remind Adam of which patient that was, Adam would never forget the look on Lewis’ face as the opera singer realised he wasn’t able to speak anymore.

 

“Since then,” Blue dragged her finger down all the following surgeries. “Gansey hasn’t logged a single hour in a neuro surgery, none with Dr. Malory and even the general surgeries he’s been on, none have been solos even though he’s more than capable.”

 

Adam peered over her shoulder at the screen, resting with his arm on the back of her chair. He touched his thumb to his lip as he thought, aware only as he did so that it was a very Gansey-like gesture in itself. He flexed his hand as he pulled it away.

 

“Maybe he’s rethinking neuro?” He suggested, knowing the words felt wrong as soon as they left his mouth.

 

Blue scoffed. “Have you ever spoken to Gansey about neuro? He’s in love with brains.” Her voice was smaller when she continued. “He’s freaking out.”

 

He dropped his hand to her shoulder and she reached up to place her own on top, squeezing his fingers tightly once.

 

“Gansey can take care of himself, Blue. So he’s a little shaken right now, that’s only natural, right? You know what he’s like, he won’t be able to resist the pull of some surgery Malory will line up for him. He’ll bounce back – he just needs time,” he assured her, though as he spoke he wondered if he even believed his own words of comfort.

 

His friend sighed. “You think so?”

 

“I know so,” Adam said. “He’s a Gansey after all, surgery is in his blood.”

 

Blue laughed and then shook her head, as if her worried thoughts would fall from her wild hair. “Right, yeah. You’re right. Okay, c’mon – I’ve got three more post ops and then I can clock off. You finished for the day?”

 

“I will be in about an hour,” Adam said and found himself biting back a smile. As Blue went to round up, he gave up schooling his expression and grinned. He was nearly finished and someone was waiting for him.

 

***  
  
Ronan Lynch stood on his doorstep. He had a grocery bag clutched with one arm, Adam could see red, ripe tomatoes poking out of the top. His other arm was braced against the door as if he was holding himself up after waiting so long – though he hadn’t, Adam had to force himself not to run when the doorbell rang.

 

“Hey.” Adam could feel himself smiling, a small secret twist of his mouth reserved for the man in front of him, mirroring the expression. He had been home to change into dark jeans and the leather jacket Adam loved so much, and apparently stop by the supermarket.

 

“Hey.” Ronan jerked head upwards in a nod.

 

“What’ve you got there?” Adam asked, turning back into the house and waiting to know he was being followed before leading the way to the kitchen.

 

“What does it look like, Parrish?” His sarcasm was laced with none of its usual bite, but still after an unimpressed look from Adam, he answered the question. “You said you hadn’t eaten yet, I thought I’d cook something.”

 

Ronan placed the bag on the counter when they entered the kitchen, began pulling out the tomatoes and more fresh vegetables amongst other things.

 

“Italian?” Adam guessed, rummaging through the ingredients he had brought.

 

The tips of Ronan’s ears were warming when he shrugged. “It’s easy – I’m sure even you could cook this.”

 

“But I’m not, right?” Adam stepped towards Ronan, turning his palms upwards just above his sides. His smile didn’t help the slight giddy tone in his voice. “You’re cooking me dinner?”

 

Ronan wasted no time in placing his hands in Adam’s, weaving their fingers together. He gave a put upon sigh. “Yes, I’m cooking you dinner. Happy?”

 

“Very.” Using their linked hands to pull him closer, Adam savoured the moment before he kissed Ronan, the quick breath he took, how his mouth parted before it even met his own. Then he savoured the feeling of lips against lips. It had only been earlier that day they parted – and yet. “Let’s skip dinner.”

 

When Ronan chuckled it was more of a mumble, not willing to move far enough away for the sound to escape. “You’re funny. You’ve just had a ten hour shift – you need to eat, sit down.”

 

He did as he was told. “What about you? Your day hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.”

 

Adam tried not to think about how it made him feel, watching Ronan make himself at home in the kitchen as he began to cook. “Yeah, making out with hot doctors is hard work.”

 

“Shut up,” Adam elbowed him from his seat at the counter. “But seriously, how’re you feeling? After today?”

 

Without looking up from slicing the vegetables, wielding a knife with a proficiency that made Adam feel a little weak, Ronan shrugged. “It was different, that’s for sure. But it was still a work day, y’know? And the kid made it, best result. And besides – it was kinda cool to see you work.”

 

“You pretty much only see me at work.”

 

“It’s different.” Ronan shifted his eyes away from his ingredients to glance at him. “Actually seeing you in surgery.”

 

“How?” He shifted so he could rest his elbow on the counter and then his face in his palm.

 

“You’re chill and you have this kinda focus in your eye. And your hands move like it’s second nature. It’s hot.”

 

“Hot?”

 

“ _Hot,”_ Ronan finished slicing the tomatoes and abandoned his station to box Adam in against the counter.

 

“You have a competency kink, I think.” Adam didn’t give him a chance to respond, pressing another kiss against his lips, relishing the feeling – it was so new, and easy and he couldn’t get enough. He decided to murmur again, “let’s skip dinner.”

 

“There’s dinner?”

 

Ronan didn’t get a chance to reply, the padding of feet against the kitchen tile accompanying the scavenger that spoke. The fireman stepped back before Henry rounded the corner, though he stroked his hand along Adam’s arm as he did so. “Not for you, Cheng.”

 

Henry’s hair was wet from his shower, flopping this way and that when he sat down next to Adam. “Oh, go on Lynch. I think you owe me after this afternoon, huh? I could have been getting a valuable twenty minutes of nap time but I gave it up so you two could bump-”

 

“He’ll feed you,” Adam interrupted. Ronan looked indignant. “If he’s eating, he’s not talking.”

 

“Who’s eating? There’s food?” As Blue entered the kitchen, Ronan let his head thunk against the counter.

 

“Lynch is making us dinner,” Henry grinned.

 

His roommates dissolved into chatter about the day, Henry regaling what had happened in the OR with the older chemistry kid. Adam listened barely, focusing on Ronan getting back to cooking. When they locked eyes, he rolled his eyes at the pair and mouthed _I owe you._ If his grin was anything to go by, that made the feeding of hungry doctors worth it to Ronan.

 

In the end, when everyone had their fill, after Ronan had demanded a ban on all surgery talk while they were eating, after Adam had washed up and passed Ronan plates to dry in the most horrifically domestic way, they were far too tired to do anything more than lazily make out on Adam’s bed.

 

“Stay?” Adam mumbled, lying on his side, Ronan mirroring him.

 

The fireman took his hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. He looked so good, Adam thought, in _his_ bed, with his face pressed against _his_ pillow.

 

“Not going anywhere,” Ronan replied, a gruffness to his voice.

 

It turned out Ronan snored lightly but stayed still in his sleep – apart from a moment in the middle of the night when he had reached out to pull Adam against his chest. It was the best night sleep Adam could recall having in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the scene, Ronan arrives with another kid affected by the explosion, in order to stop bleeding he places his hand in the wound. It's important that he doesn't let go, so Adam and Dr. Gray help him to the OR. Adam helps Ronan to clamp the wound, asking if he trusts him to help him. Ronan says he does and succeeds, leaving the OR with a promise to talk to Adam. 
> 
> This scene is pretty much lifted from Grey's Anatomy (S14, E13) entirely, full credit to them and Shonda Rhimes for that. 
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading! Sorry it's been so long, I really hope this chapter was okay, promise there will be no ramblings next time 
> 
> Chapter title from fighting for my love - nil lara

**Author's Note:**

> wow okay, I hope that was okay? It's very long and self indulgent, combining my two interests but I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to pop by my tumblr (sweater-sasquatch) and say hi, let me know if you have any suggestions or worries. Title is from turn and turn again by all thieves, as is chapter name if you wanted to take a listen, each chapter will be a different lyrics so i'll drop the song here each update. See you next friday! - kat


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